Late Night Occurrences
by werevampwolf
Summary: The end of Nightwing's shift is always the worst time of night. Something only coffee can fix for him. A collection of one shots about Dick's quest for caffeine. T for a little bit of bad language.
1. Chapter 1

Authors note: Disclaimer - I own nothing.

Nightwing was shuffling through Bludhaven at a pace a baby could have matched. It had been a VERY long night.

Dick hated winter with a passion; the one good thing about being a member of the Bat family was they did their work from the shadows, which meant unless a global disaster was imminent, they only went out after dark. But now it was winter, so it was dark from half four in the afternoon to half seven in the morning, which meant a lot more work and a lot less sleep for the vigilante.

But even someone trained by Batman had limits, and Dick knew he had reached his. He could feel he was about to collapse from exhaustion, and he preffered not to do that in the middle of the street.

For a brief moment, Dick missed having Alfred there to force Dick to take care of himself; Alfred wouldn't have let him stay out this long in the cold. Nightwing shook his head to clear it, and noticed a small coffee shop that was still open, despite the ridiulous hour.

Dick had a small debate with himself, and the part that wanted to feel warm again won. It was unlikely a barista was going to be a trained killer, he reasoned, as he limped towards the building.

As he pushed open the door he took in his surroundings like he'd been trained to do. Two members of staff, chatting to one another, one customer, looking like she'd just come fom a late night work out, judging by the lycra, one window and one door; Dick decided to take his chances.

"Double espresso please," he asked in his least threatning tone.

It wasn't enough, judging by the staff's reaction.

"Please, we haven't done anything. We just work here, whatever's going on we don't know anything about it. You can check in the back if you want," the guy said.

"Yeah. I know you haven't done anything. I just need-"

"Holy fuck! You've been stabbed! You need an ambulance right?" interupted the girl.

"No! I just came in for coffee. A double espresso please," he repeated, collapsing into an armchair.

"So you're okay?" asked the girl, who was still fixating on his wounds.

"Yeah," Dick answered, closing is eyes. "It was barely a hit, it'll stop bleeding now I've stopped moving."

"Well if you're okay, could you get out of our chair? Like seriously, we have to do the cleaning here, and we do not get paid enough to clean blood stains out of velvet," the guy asked, with his back to Nightwing, as he prepared his coffee.

Dick opened one eye to look at the man, wanting to make sure he had really just said that to a vigilante with a history of breaking the bones of people who annoyed him.

"He's serious," said the girl, who hadn't bothered to look up from her phone.

Dick sighed, and moved to a varnished wooden chair, that he figured could be wiped clean. It seemed Alfred's years of complaints had stuck with him.

"This okay?" he asked, with a hint of sarcasm.

"Sure," the guy shrugged, as he handed Dick his drink.

After a quick glance at the clock on the wall, he decided to down it one go. He really had to get home if he wanted any sleep tonight.

"Thanks," he said, fishing out a two dollar bill, and handing it to the guy.

"Wait. You're wearing a skin tight suit, where the fuck are you keeping your wallet?" asked the girl, looking incredulous.

Dick smirked, and shrank back into the shadows on his way out. Although he thought the mysterious effect was slightly ruined when he opened the door and set off the bell. 


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: Disclaimer - I own nothing. Sorry if anyone just got two alerts. I uploaded the chapter then realised half of it was missing. Had to replace it.

Thank you to my lovely beta sass-mistress-lucifer, who's grammar is a force to be reckoned with, and my wonderful batbeta, who isn't on this site, but did kidnap this story for a while and hold it to ransom until it was long enough. She's the reason you guys are getting a decent chapter.

There were times when Nightwing regretted becoming a vigilante. Not often, because the idea of cleaning his city of human grime was just so rewarding, but the work hours were defiantly not desirable.

And gang wars. Not just petty thievery or even scuffles over said loot, but full out, thought-out territory wars. For all their planning and strategic values, they were messy, they were unpredictable, and they almost always got innocents involved. And they cut into sleep hours.

Which was why Nightwing found himself limping down a cold alleyway at half five in the morning, lamenting the loss of even more sleep than usual. Looking for a building with a strong enough railing to grapple onto, he wondered if he could teleport home if he wished hard enough. Maybe he could ask watchtower to do it. It wasn't that immature of him.

Out of the corner of his eye, in this suddenly familiar alleyway, he saw a familiar dusky light, and through his self-pity, he saw the building had a familiar entrance. And deciding that half an hours worth of sleep was just not worth it, he realised that it had an even more familiar scent of coffee.

With less restraint than should have come from a former Robin, he clipped his grapple hook back onto his belt with a silent 'what the hell'; and walked towards the siren caffeine.

With a ring from the bell that was way too happy for this time in the morning, he pushed open the door, to find that although Lycra-girl wasn't still here, the same two staff members were. The only thing keeping them awake, he mused, was the ungodly amount of sexual tension that he stumbled in on. They hadn't even noticed the overly cheery chime of the bell.

With a smirk, he ordered.

"Double espresso, please." This had to have set a record of least scary way to scare someone from the shadows, but they still both jumped at least a meter into the air.

"Shit! I did not realise you were there," she gasped, with one hand over her heart, her phone lying abandoned on the counter. "Do not do that again." Pointing one threatening finger at him as she turned around to grab a branded mug off the shelf behind.

Dick smirked, walking over to the armchair. Brit Guy, not forgetting past transgressions, glared at him as he stepped near the plush seat, but upon not seeing any open wounds, let it go.

Though Dick wasn't entirely sure he didn't have internal bleeding at this point.

As Headphones Girl walked over to him with coffee in one hand, phone in other, he realised that it was probably rude to keep referring to them with nicknames, regardless of the fact that it was in his head. Seeking to rectify that, he acted.

"So what are your names? Because frankly I'm this far away," he made a small gap with his thumb and forefinger, "From calling you Brit and Headphones out loud."

"Headphones, huh? Cute. I'm Rebecca, and that's Shaun." This was said with a head-tip in Brit- Shaun's direction.

"Less amused about the Brit part. I swear it's the only thing anyone notices around here." He rolled his eyes to his remark before carrying on. "I take it this introduction isn't going to go both ways though." Sarcastic to the end.

"Of course it is," Dick told him, his shit eating grin now firmly in place. Standing up and bowing, he finished with: "I'm Nightwing."

Rebecca rolled her eyes at his childish antics. "He will throw a mug at you," she warned.

The grin widened. "I'm pretty sure I can take him," keeping his tone friendly as banter mode switched on.

"Don't you dare. If he smashes a mug over your head, and you kill him for it, then I'd be the one having to hide the bodies." It was almost with skill that she could hold a full conversation and text at the same time.

"I don't kill," he stated. "Anyone in Bludhaven could tell you that. He could still tidy up with a few missing teeth." Hold up, did she just threaten to kill him?

Rebecca glanced over her phone to look at Nightwing. "Fine," she said after a pause, before resuming texting.

Dick glanced at the clock, debating whether he should go home or just pull another all-nighter, before deciding it didn't matter. It's not like he had anything important to do today anyway. He'd even read about sleep inertia, so really it was better for him.

"Could I get a refill?" he asked holding up the empty mug, its pale blue colour shining in the orange lights.

"Sure," said Rebecca, sharing what could easily be just a passing look with Shaun as she made her way over to the coffee machine.

Nightwing immediately tensed, ready for an attack. Shaun threw something at him, a thin aqua-white something which Dick easily deflected, bouncing it off his vambraces before he smoothly took out a Wingding, ready to retaliate.

Then he noticed Shaun had thrown a regulars card at him.

"Shaun!" Rebecca scolded. "He's used to weirdo's attacking him. You can't just throw stuff at him. You're going to get yourself beaten to a bloody pulp."

"Sorry. Thought you were trying something." Nightwing muttered, looked at the card again, or more specifically, the registration details. "But do you guys seriously think I'm going to give you my email address?" he asked, flicking the card between two fingers before throwing it back at Shaun.

Rebecca handed Dick his second drink, and crossing over to Shaun, they saw she had a grin that made both men nervous.

Taking the card from Shaun, she attacked it with a biro. A minute later she stamped it, and handed it back to Nightwing.

It now read-

Name: Nightwing

Address: Nightcave

Email: batkidatwhateverthisisrobinright?

Dick did a double take at the email address. It hadn't gone unnoticed.

"Come on, it's clearly you," said Rebecca, guessing his thoughts. "Even if you did get a new costume and move city. But seriously why the new costume? I loved the little booty shorts."

Dick sent a very impressive patented Batglare her way, making no comment on the booty shorts. He already had enough shit to deal with about that in the Watchtower; he didn't need it from two coffee shop strangers.

"Okay. Sorry," she said holding her hands up in surrender, while Shaun laughed at her.

"The Nightcave?" Dick not so much asked, as commented. "You think I'm cooler than I am."

"Well everyone says Batman lives in a Batcave, but since you moved out of his city, I figured you must have your own place," she explained.

"You're such a twat," stated Shaun almost fondly, as a reply to Rebecca in general.

"I'm a twat?" she retaliated. "You're the one who works in a coffee shop when you don't even drink coffee. Tea snob."

"Yeah, but I'm not the one trying to piss off an unstable vigilante."

"I don't think I need to; you're doing that just fine yourself, calling him an unstable vigilante."

Dick smiled at the exchange, but drained his mug and pocketed the card before the sexual tension became too much and suffocated him. Placing his money on the table, he slipped out unnoticed, leaving Shaun and Rebecca to their married-couple bickering. This place never failed to cheer him up, he decided. He may accidentally stroll this way more often.

Ten minutes later, the two co-workers finally noticed his departure.


	3. Chapter 3ITM

Authors note: Disclaimer - I own nothing.

Sorry about the ridiculously long wait, I had so much coursework to do. I should be able to upload normally from now though.

Thank you again to my two lovely beta's. I seriously recommend checking sass-mistress-lucifer's stories out. They're awesome.

Nightwing crouched on the corner of a rain-slicked rooftop, the early-morning drizzle running over his form, washing off the worst of the blood that was coating him. He had been sat there for a few minutes, staring resolutely into the window of a familiar building. The logical part of him said that he shouldn't go in, as regular routines never end well in both the crime, and vigilante world. Always keep an irregular schedule; rule one. The rest of his body was all for it though, and he didn't think that any other coffee shop would be so accepting of a (hypothetical) Cape.

It was odd, now he thought of it. What type of coffee shop is so weirdly chilled around vigilantes? Looking back though, it may have something to do with the tips he left, but it was a thought to be had. He stored it away for further consideration later, and jumped smoothly off the side of the building.

Before he had even entered the shop, he noticed that there was quite a crowd for such a ridiculous hour. Through the glass door he saw three more people than normal. The sleepy Lycra-Girl was back, acting rather awake as she chatted cheerily to a dark-haired man sat next to her, who clutched his coffee like a lifeline. At this sort of hour, it probably was. Across the other side of the room, sitting in his lonely velvet plush chair was a girl in her late teens with a battered laptop across her knees, and Shaun hovering by her shoulder behind the back of the chair.

With a loud ding, the accursed bell announced his presence, and the teenage girl, who Dick judged to be a college kid, being the only one with a clear view of the door, saw him first. And fangirled. He didn't need to hear her to know that she had just uttered something along the lines of:

"Oh my God."

"Hi!" he happily announced to her, "I'm Nightwing." He offered his hand to her.

"I know who you are, I cosplayed you last month," she sounded almost offended when he 'implied' she wouldn't know the city's newest hero. She glanced at the outstretched hand, and with a look of disgust, started to root around in the worn tan rucksack next to her. "And bee-tee-dubs, if you bleed on my laptop I will bleed on you. From not a very fun place," she finished, putting a packet of what he assumed to be wetwipes into his hand. From the snort of laughter coming from Shaun, who had moved back behind the counter, College Kid must make rude comments like this often. Either that, or Shaun was training her.

He looked at the wetwipes. He realised that he was still covered in blood, and was probably grossing out College Kid from where she sat in front of him.

"Oh, sorry," he apologised, taking a wetwipe out of the cool green packet. He then set about cleaning his hands and the blood from the more serious wounds, wincing as the soap stung the cuts.

"And here I was thinking that you were the smooth member of the infamous Batclan," commented Shaun as he passed him a readily-becoming familiar double espresso, without needing to be asked.

"I am. Have you seen Batman, it's impossible to do worse than that," he said, taking a sip of what was quickly becoming liquid happiness. "Oh and by the way, I don't have any money on me. Any chance I can get a discount?" he asked with a cheeky grin.

Shaun was the one to spoil the party, but it wasn't really surprising.

"A discount implies you get some money off, and receive goods and services for less than full price. You can't pay anything, so you're stealing," said Shaun. Always the know it all of the group.

"Shaun!" admonished Rebecca, slapping him, with what looked like a well practised movement, around the back of his head. "He risks his life to keep the city safe. Of course he can have a free drink."

Putting both hands up in a sign of defeat, he just uttered a simple phrase. "Just saying."

"Do you still have your regulars' card?" she asked him, turning away from the grumbling Brit. The Cape without a cape smiled, pulling it from one of the many sleek pockets in his suit and handing it to her to get it stamped.

"Cool. Only three more and you get a free drink that Shaun can't complain about," she said with a smile. She was starting to like this new member of their motley crew. Like the Forest Checklist, she thought. A black belt dressing in lycra? Check. The obligatory College Kid pulling as many hours as possible? Check. A renowned vigilante calmly walking in like he wasn't covered in blood? Double Check!

"I'm just saying, this is a business not a friendship," he argued, as he batted Rebecca's ponytail; as if it was a valid point to bat ponytails.

"Don't you think you're scaring off repeat customers with that attitude?" she shot back smootly, as if she was barely putting any effort into the banter.

"He's not a customer! He's not paying!"

"Shush! I'm trying to write a paper here! This needs to be in for next week!" interrupted College Kid, shooting dirty looks in their direction as Shaun once again took up his place behind the plush chair.

With a few muttered words, he took the laptop off her and proceeded to make little notes in the corners of her work.

"Okay," he finally said. "Give me fifteen minutes, and you better leave a tip this time."

"Thanks Shaun. You're the best," she said, giving him an awkward sideways hug, before turning back to her frappe, which was sat innocently on the small side table next to the lonely plush armchair.

Rebecca caught Nightwing staring.

"Shaun used to be a history professor," she said in way of explanation. "He usually helps Liz out with her papers."

"Only some of my papers," Liz protested. "I still do some of them by myself."

"If you were a professor, how come you work in a coffee shop now?" asked Nightwing, feeling both confused and suspicious in equal parts.

"Because I moved to America," he said, with even more sarcasm than usual. He didn't realise just how honest people were being when they said it was part of the British staple diet. "This is the land of opportunity, only I found no job opportunities. Now I'm stuck working the night shift in a coffee shop to make ends meet. I suppose it's better than nothing though." he finished with a shrug. "You need to quote your source," he commented absent-mindedly, as he looked back down at the screen.

"Shaun! You can't complain about your job to a guy who literally gets shot at for a living! At least he tries to help people!" Rebecca chastised him.

He gave her a deadpan look. "Yes I can. I quite clearly just did."

"She does have a point though Shaun," Liz told him.

"Who is writing your essay for you?"

"He does have a point Rebecca." conceeded College Kid. "But you're not writing it. You said so yourself. Shall I quote? 'You don't get anywhere from having it written. They'd all be the same otherwise, and reading 800 essays that are all the same would kill off the examiner. I would know.' You asked for quotes."

"I didn't order a side portion of cheek, though it seems to be taking over my plate." Shaun grumbled.

Dick smiled at the banter as he took his usual place in his high backed wooden arm chair. Rebecca would kill him if he went anywhere near the plush one covered in blood, and it already seemed to have been commandeered by an aspiring historian. He put his mug and his card softly onto the table next to him.

"So what's it like being a vigilante?" Liz asked, from the seat opposite him.

"Painful," said a deep gravelly voice from a shadow in the corner. Even Lycra-Girl and her fiancee who had been following the conversation jumped. Nightwing simply sighed.

"Hello Batman." he greeted tiredly. This was why you didn't make schedules. Batman could find you. Regardless of what your morals were, or even if you were trained by him. Batman always found you. Always.

"You have some explaining to do Nightwing." Nightwing winced. "Why are you in a coffee shop when people may need your help?" Batman growled out at him.

"You're here too," Dick pointed out, hoping for some reprieve.

"I'm not the one with a member's card," No reprieve then. He knew that card was evil ever since it was thrown at him. Batman held the card innocently between two gloved fingers despite the fact he had left it on the counter nearby.

"Oh sorry. That's mine." You go Lycra-Girl! Plucking the card from between his fingers, she stepped between the glaring vigilantes.

"Your name is Nightwing?" Batman mocked, disbelief colouring his gravelly voice, as he turned the Batglare towards her.

"That is the name my mother gave me," she said simply, with her own impressive frown. "Karen Nightwing, at your service."

"Really," said Batman, his voice getting deeper, and rougher, as he was challenged.

"Yes," said the man who had been sitting next to her. "I assure you, that is the name I used when I asked her to marry me," he said, adding his own two cents to the conversation, and joining his fiancee in between the Bat and the Bird.

Batman grunted, not quite conceding defeat. "Red Robin said you haven't been answering your communicator recently. I came to check you were still here."

Rebecca saw the wince on Nightwing's face, despite his mask. 'Still here.' was an odd phrase. Batman should have asked if he was okay, but in this line of work... She guessed it must have another meaning to the two vigilantes. One that was causing her new customer distress. And she wasn't going to stand for that.

She dragged Shaun behind her as she went to join the human barricade in front of Nightwing, who was looking slightly bemused at his personal army of regulars, bearing assorted hot drinks threateningly.

"Well, as you can see he's fine. Now buy a coffee or get out of my shop," she said, her customer service smile still fixed in place. It could have given a SmileX grin a run for its money. In both the size and associated trauma.

Batman grunted again. He didn't like defeat, did he? "Answer your communicator immediately in future, Nightwing," he growled, as he left with a swish of his cape. A bell cheered mockingly after him.

"That prick," yelled Rebecca, throwing a tea towel to the floor in anger. "Can you get him back here?" she asked Nightwing in utmost seriousness. "I want to 'accidentally' spill some boiling hot coffee into his eyes."

"I could do that, but I don't think it would end well for you," he said with a small chuckle. "But did I just get my honour defended by you guys?" he asked, looking round the group that was now gathered in a semi-circle around him. Brit, Headphones, Lycra-Girl-Nightwing, Lycra's fiancee and College Kid.

"Yeah bro. You're part of the Three-In-The-Morning Coffee Club now. It's like a mafia of sleep deprived idiots. We've got Shaun, Rebecca, Karen, and yes her last name is really Nightwing, her fiancee Mark, and me, Elizabeth! But seriously, call me Liz."

"Pleasure to meet you all." he said after a moment, with a smile. He was in a coffee cult!

"Pleasure to meet you too," Sarcasm. Staple diet. "So what's got Batman's cape in a twist?"

Dick rolled his eyes. Not that anyone could see behind his whited-out lenses. They could probably sense it though. "That was pretty polite for him. None of you have broken bones."

"Let him try," snorted Lycra-Girl, or Karen as he should now call her. "I got a brand new taser when I moved here just for freaks like him," she said, just as a look of realisation passed across her face. "No offence. I don't mean the vigilante thing. It's just the fact that he always creeps up on you, out of the shadows, no matter what the setting. I really don't like people creeping up on me. Pet peeve, you see."

"None taken, but I think you'll need a bit more than a taser to take out Batman."

"Oh I've got pepper spray too," she informed him, shaking a dubious black pressurised can with a mischievous glint in her eyes, before she dragged her fiancee towards the exit. With a quick wave goodbye to the 3ITM club, and a bell ring to mach her own cheerfulness, she was gone.

"So... why does she always wear lycra? Or is it just a thing?" Dick asked once the young couple had left.

"Oh, she's trying to lose weight before her wedding, and she's always here after her late night workouts. Sometimes she drags Mark along too. They're great fun, those two." Rebecca informed him, walking to a damp-stained cupboard under the counter.

"At three in the morning?" Not the usual time for workouts, he thought.

"She works irregular hours, and she's a bit of an insomniac anyway. This is practically her equivalent of a lunch break," Shaun supplied from back behind the counter, sipping what Nightwing assumed to be tea, whilst Rebecca had her head in cupboard, which turned out to be a dishwasher.

"Any particular reason you have your head in a dishwasher Rebecca?" Nightwing lent back to get a better look. She brandished a screwdriver at him, with a complementary glare. He shut up.

"I'm surprised she's not sticking her head in the oven now we're going to have to deal with every other hero turning up at all hours of the night." Shaun muttered under his breath, still loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Shaun!"

"What? He didn't even buy anything. And why do you think she's poking a dishwasher with a screwdriver you idiot?"

"Okay, broken dishwasher. Well, at least you guys all have proper jobs." he mentioned. A pause. "Hey," he said, brightening instantly. "do you guys need any help around here?"

The pair laughed at him, Rebecca's giggle echoing oddly in the dishwasher.

"You're always on call in case the world's ending, we couldn't sign you up for a regular shift pattern," said Shaun, as he put mugs away.

"Yeah, and how old are you anyway?" asked Rebecca, removing her head from the dishwasher.

"Thirty."

There was a derisory snort from Shaun, and disbelieving looks from the rest of the 3ITM's.

"Fine," he sighed. "Twenty three."

"Dude seriously?" said Liz, without looking up from her college paper

"Alright. Alright! I'm still in my late teens. But seriously, that's your objection, not the fact that I'm a masked vigilante?"

"Personally, I think that'd be great. I'd love to work alongside a cut guy with a skin-tight suit," said Rebecca, emerging from the dishwasher triumphantly... something in her hand.

"Hey!" said Shaun.

"Problem?" asked Rebecca, a little too innocently.

"Well... You're objectifying the poor man," answered Shaun, after just a moment too long.

Dick couldn't take the unresolved sexual tension between these two. Leaving his cup on the counter, he nodded to Liz on the way out, and received a cheery wave in return.

"The 3 In The Morning Coffee Club Mafia," he muttered to himself over the chime of the bell. He finished the thought.

'Seems just about as good as the Justice League.'


	4. Chapter 4

Authors note: Disclaimer - I own nothing. Thanks to my two lovely Beta's, who have the best idea's. You should seriously check out sass-mistress-lucifer's stuff, it'll make you laugh. And possibly cry.

Nightwing had learned his lesson. Getting caught by Batman sitting down drinking coffee on the job was a no-go, especially if he wanted to keep his Batclan membership. Tim had been sending him coffee-related gifs all week. Unless the job was a stake out, he'd better not be caught again. He briefly debated whether Batman would check to see if he actually came back to this place or not, and decided that he would just have to sneak around better.

When his life wasn't on the line, Dick did like a challenge, and sneaking around Batman was about as hard as it got.

Leaping off the top of a nearby building, he jumped into the shadow of the doorway where his outline wouldn't be seen, and after checking for any overly suspicious Bats, he ducked into the shop. The black and blue vigilante (both in the suit and the bruises littering his skin) knew that time was of the essence, as he wouldn't put it past the Bat to put trackers on him like he used to when he was nine.

Quickly pacing to the opposite end of the shop, he nodded to the 3-In-The-Morning club, where everyone was assembled; from Collage Kid eternally typing away on her laptop to Lycra Girl's Fiance almost asleep in one of the plush booths lining the walls.

"Double espresso to go please." ordered Nightwing, not waiting for Shaun and Rebecca finish flirting. They knew what he wanted.

"Wha- Oh right." Shaun blurted out eloquently, Rebecca busying herself with both a mug and her phone.

Drumming his fingers of the side of the counter, Dick impatientlycounted the seconds down until he received his hot caffeinated cup full of heaven, becoming more agitated by the minute. This, however, didn't go unnoticed by Rebecca.

"So what's the rush?" she asked, elbows resting on the counter, "Because if you stopped for coffee in the middle of a riot or something, I think that's kind of irresponsible. And that's coming from me."

"I did not abandon a situation to go for coffee. I just want to get going." Nightwing told her, a little more harshly than was necessary. And can you blame him? He was at great risk of Batman bearing down on his ass for the second time in as many days, and if he got one more taunting message from the rest of the Clan he was going to scream. One man can only take so many dancing coffee cup gifs before snapping after all. Rebecca just happened to be on the wrong end of it.

Holding her hands up in the universal sign for surrender, Rebecca turned away from him with a slightly hurt expression as Shaun handed him his drink. Looking at him with a frown, Dick immediately regretted snapping at her. He had hoped as a kid just starting out with the hero gig that he would one day be an approachable hero like the Flash, but it just wasn't in his personality. It would be nice to be accepted in a community, to be a city mascot rather than it's dirty secret. Heck, even the Rouges accepted Flash! That might just have been Central though. That city was so bright and cheerful it gave him eye strain.

Dick stifled a sigh as he raised his head and placed his money on the counter, the exact amount of change being set down coin by meticulous coin, and turned to leave, his coffee clutched like a lifeline between his gravel-marked hands. That was when Liz, always unaware of the situation… or sometimes too aware, decided to speak up.

"Hey Nightwing! Who'd win in a fight between Red Arrow and Green Arrow?" Unaware. Definitely. That, or just on a whole new level of devious.

Dick forced himself to stop walking to the exit and began the laborious process of turning towards her, stopping his eyebrows sarcastically rising only through sheer force of will. When he moved to Bludhaven he'd promised himself that he wouldn't end up like Batman: disappearing mysteriously from an allies' side and abandoning them to the limelight with only a swish of his cape (not that he had a cape but the point still stood). Dick dragged his battered form around to face Liz.

"Uh, well Green Arrow's more experienced, having been a vigilante for much longer, but I'm friends with Red Arrow, so friendly bias, I suppose." Dick resumed his not-so-subtle break for freedom, eyes locked on the door like it represented everything he cared for in the world. Which at that moment, was mainly his coffee, and peace and quiet.

She moaned in annoyance, her head hitting the back of the plush chair with a soft thump. "But that just tells me who you're better friends with. Honestly, which one do you think would win in a fight?"

"I have to work with them both. I really don't want to say." Dick looked around the room shiftily, his eyes flicking to and fro behind his mask as he searched for cameras. Because either the League was setting him up, or the 3ITM club were working against him. He didn't know which was worse.

"Come on, it's not like they'll ever find out." she cajoled, chap-stick-covered lips falling into a persuasive pleading grin.

"Why do you need to know? Are you planning to pick off the weakest?" Dick asked with a hint of sarcasm, sending a half-hearted Bat-glare Liz' way.

"No." Liz shrugged, her college sweater (true to her nickname) crumpling around her shoulders. "If I wanted to pick off the weakest I'd start with Superman. All you have to do is cause a bit of trouble, let him get close, then wave a pink gemstone at him; and I'm pretty sure Batman would be down to after that too. I've thought about this, you know." She pointed a knowing finger at him.

"How do you know about that?" Dick hissed at her, immediately reverting to Nightwing mode.

"Dude! Internet, bro! There is a form of Kryptonite that turns Superman violently gay, and you seriously thought the fan-girls weren't going to find out. Where have you been, we were all over that like six months ago! You need to up your game. There are whole debate forums full of serious fans and crazy fans and I'm pretty sure even Lex Luthor occasionally shows up, so considering you people must monitor his Internet usage to high heaven I really don't understand how _you _don't know that _we _all know about the turns-Superman-gay-rock-of-awesome." The disbelief in her tone was almost palpable.

Dick sighed, one hand scraping over his domino mask in frustration. "Do you think you could have a list of all the sites that mention that by the next time I see you?" he asked.

"But then you'll get your Bat-buddies to take them down." she pouted. "Those sites are hilarious."

The Bat-glare intensified.

"Okay, I'll get you a list. But I'm not doing it this week, I'm working on my exams. And I won't be able to track them all down; I'm pretty sure it was on Tumblr at one point, and what goes on there never comes off. And if you and the rest of the Bat-butts take Tumblr down, I will personally unleash the fan-girls on your ass." Liz fixed him with a very stern look.

"Fine," she compromised, "by Friday. But you never answered my question."

"What?"

"Who'd win in a fight?" That was definitely a hidden evil grin behind Liz' sincerely interested expression. He could smell it.

"Green Arrow." Dick ground out, now thoroughly irritated.

"You're just saying that!" challenged Liz. "I need full explanations! Planned out potential fight sequences! Differences in fighting style! Both of their advantages and disadvantages! You can't just say Green Arrow."

"Fine! I'll just say Red Arrow then." said Dick, making for the exit again.

This time he was stopped by Lycra-girl interjecting from somewhere near her comatose fiance in the back of the shop.

"Who'd win out of Wonder Woman and Superman?" There was something going on here.

"I don't have ti- urgh, fine. Wonder Woman." He threw his hands up, only partly in annoyance. They were good, he could _grudgingly_ appreciate that. Didn't mean he had to like it though.

"Why?"

Dick checked his answer, decided there wouldn't be any ramifications, and answered truthfully. "Because she's scarier."

"What about a fight between Black Canary and Flash." interrupted Mark from where he had been dosing. Apparently the spirit of harassing a hero could wake anyone up.

"Why do you think the Justice League spends all their time fighting each other?" This was getting ridiculous. He was ridiculous. He should just storm out.

"I don't." Mark shrugged. "But who'd win?"

"I don- Well okay, Black Canary." Dick answered, backing away towards the exit.

"Who'd win out of you and Batman?" asked Shaun, feigning interest in the conversation just to annoy Nightwing; probably as small-minded revenge for Rebecca.

"I DON'T- I have to go now."

"Hey Nightwing." called Rebecca.

"What?!" he wondered what she was going to ask him. He didn't like that smirk.

"You didn't let me stamp your card." That's why he didn't like that smirk.

Dick handed it over wordlessly, defeated. He decided it might be a few days until he came back here, and he wouldn't make the mistake of snapping at Rebecca again.


	5. Chapter 5

Authors mote: Disclaimer - You know the drill, still own nothing. Thanks for all the lovely reviews, they really make my day, although feel free to point out anything you think is wrong. And as usual, a massive thank you to my two wonderful beta's, you guys are the best.

Nightwing was more confident now. He hadn't woken up to Batman standing over him, poised to attack, so Dick guessed he had gotten away with his quick trip to the coffee shop. The thought made him disproportionately happy.

But that didn't mean he could let his guard down just yet. It had only been five days since 'the incident' and Batman could be very patient when it suited him. If Nightwing wanted to stay longer than his last five minute visit, he would have to be very stealthy.

He didn't think this was quite what his training had been intended for.

Bastardised training aside, the ex-Robin found himself on the rooftops across from where he usually perched, carrying out a different approach. Eyes sifting through the darkness, he spotted the tiny gold outline of the target. The back door.

As Nightwing started edging cautiously towards the thin door, he tried to condone this to himself. If everyone in the 3ITM club was comfortable making fun of him, then Shaun and Rebecca should be okay with him slightly breaking in. It wasn't like he was going to break the door down or anything.

That made him pause for a moment. Dick wondered briefly if he should stop breaking people's skylights just to make a dramatic entrance, fighting for the law and all, but then decided it wasn't worth worrying about. New windows meant more money for the economy, right?

With carefully executed acrobatics off a fire escape, Nightwing landed in the alley behind the coffee shop. Pleasantly surprised at finding the door unlocked, Nightwing slipped into the building, unnoticed by the world.

As soon as he stepped inside, he knew something was wrong, his Bat-instinct acting up. And you can always trust the Bat-instinct. After a second he realised the problem; it was too quiet. It wasn't unusual for College Kid, Lycra Girl, and her Fiance to be quiet as they struggled to stay awake, but he had yet sneak in on Shaun and Rebecca and not find them flirting. So either they were in the middle of a lovers' quarrel or...

"Oh ho ho. He says he already has protection, boys. But you see, you and your little bitch there don't seem to understand you're working in our territory. And that means that if you want to keep breathing, you gotta pay." Nightwing groaned internally as he heard the usual spiel of an underling thug getting ready to beat somebody up to make them pay protection money. And as if right on queue...

"Well then boys, lets see who's gonna protect him from this."

Nightwing winced as he heard the sound of a strong punch hitting flesh. But curiously, it was the followed by more sounds of fighting, and a small scream that must have come from College Kid. A sharp shot sounded. Unable to leave his friends in danger any longer, Nightwing burst through the door and vaulted over the counter, jumping straight into the fray.

Using the counter as a springboard, Nightwing landed cat-like in front of the first thug who, judging by the overly-large shotgun held in his hands, was the source of the gunshot.

"Compensating?" Dick motioned, with a smirk. Before the goon could reply, his gun was wrenched out of his grasp with a loud snap, as the thug's wrist was broken. Slamming the weathered wooden butt of the gun into the thug's face, he dropped like a stone with a very satisfying crunch.

Nightwing turned to face the rest of the gang, but instead of the group being harassed like he expected, and was greeted with a very disconcerting sight.

Rebecca and Lycra girl were stood next to a pile of unconscious bodies.

"Guys? What?" Nightwing spluttered, lost for words.

"What? You didn't actually think we'd rely on you to save us, did you?" Shaun scoffed, his sarcasm still unaffected by his ordeal. "If you want a job doing properly, get Rebecca."

"Really?" asked Rebecca, raising a single eyebrow. "Is that your excuse for not taking a single guy down?"

"I thought you could use the practice." He shot back.

Butting into the banter before it started, Nightwing cried, "Would you stop flirting and start explaining!"

"I would have thought a vigilante would recognise a bunch of thugs looking for protection money." Shaun taunted him. "But evidently I was expecting too much of the kid who runs round in spandex."

Nightwing glared at him with what was arguably lethal force. If people didn't stop mentioning his first costume he was going to break Batman's rule. He chose it when he was nine!

"So where exactly did you two learn to fight?" he asked Rebecca and Lycra girl, slipping into the authoritative tone he reserved for his night work.

"Karen's actually a black belt, we spar sometimes. It's fun. You should join us some time." Rebecca told him, wiggling her eyebrows.

Dick was not so easily distracted.

"Three of them had guns."

"Hence the taking them down before one of us got shot. We weren't going to wait all night on the off chance you showed up." Karen defended. "This is Bludhaven! Of course some of us can defend ourselves!"

"You could have been killed." Nightwing crossed his arms with a deadpan look.

Shaun scoffed again. "This, coming from the guy who goes out every night with the sole aim of getting shot at."

Dick relented a little at his comment. It was a little hypocritical, he thought, reminding himself of his oath not to make the same mistakes as Batman.

"And none of us actually got hurt." Rebecca pointed out.

"Yeah. I suppose you guys actually did a pretty good job. Not that I'd expect anything less of a Nightwing." Dick teased, grinning at Karen.

"That's it! I m not taking it anymore." Karen snapped, dragging her fiance to his feet. "Mark, we are going to Vegas."

"What?" he asked sleepily, still not woken up completely, even after the fight.

"We are getting married and I'm taking your last name. Screw losing weight to fit into a dress that's an overpriced corset designed to squish your lungs with a train that's designed to trip you up. They're overrated anyway."

"Uh, are you sure...? I mean, you really wanted that-"

"Yes. We are going. Train station. Now." Karen informed her soon to be husband, as she dragged him towards the door.

A small bell was the only sound.

"Holy shit," whispered Liz into the stretching silence. "Did you just annoy Karen so much she stopped making up excuses to put off the wedding and is actually going to do it? Dude! You have a super power now! Please can you do Shaun and Rebecca next?" College Kid asked him, with a look of childish wonder.

"Shut up. We're not getting married. We're not even dating." Shaun mumbled, his usual witty repartee failing him.

"Exactly! That's the problem." Liz informed him. "Come on. Do the thing! I'll give you a cookie." she begged Nightwing.

"You were meant to give me a list of websites." Nightwing reminded her, trying to knock her off course.

"Yeah I know," said Liz, reaching into her backpack. "But please don't take down all the photos of Green Arrows stupid moustache. Those were the only thing that got me through last semester."

"I'll see what I can do." Dick promised. It was a stupid moustache.

"Yay!" squealed Liz, throwing her hands in the air and practically jumping on Nightwing as she gave him a hug. Dick had a hard time controlling his instinct to deck her.

"Now do the thing." she ordered, as she squeezed his ribs.

"I can't make them get married." Nightwing sighed with exasperation.

"But..." Liz replied with a pout. "Can you Bat-glare them into doing it then?"

"No."

"Please?"

"Get off me."

Instead Liz wrapped her legs around him, and crushed his chest a little tighter. "Not getting off 'till you at least make them date."

Unfortunately, that was also the moment one of the thugs chose to stir. For some reason, instead of reaching for one of the guns, or even a human shield, he chose to take a picture of Nightwing and Liz. He then legged it out the back. Nightwing tried to give chase, but realised just how serious Liz was about not letting him go until he made Rebecca and Shaun date. Which he wouldn't mind doing later, but right now he had a thug to catch.

Shaun's amused snort was all the fuel he needed. The man making a run for it was the one whose wrist Nightwing had broken, he wouldn't be going that fast, especially with the broken nose. And now he had a point to prove.

Setting off running with College Kid still wound around him like a sad koala, Nightwing ran for the back door. Fortunately his prediction came true, and the thug was attempting to climb a chain fence at the end of the alley. A well placed Wingding ensured his return to an unconscious state, and after zip tying his hands, retrieving his phone, and tossing the body in a dumpster, Nightwing declared it a job well done, and headed back to the shop.

"Dude!" College Kid whispered from where her head was buried in his neck, still refusing to get off him.

"I'm that awesome," Dick announced, as soon as he could see Shaun. "Now, can I get a double espresso please?"

Whilst Dick was distracted accepting the coffee that had already been made in his short absence (he suspected Rebecca was responsible), Liz chose that moment to grab the phone he had taken, and leap off him.

"This is so going on Facebook." She held the dirty phone up to the sky.

"Liz!" he warned, complete with angry finger pointing.

"Wait, wait!" she looked closely at the photo. "Okay, I don't look good in this picture. You can delete it if you want." she told Dick, tossing the phone back to him.

"Great. Although that gives me an idea." he said pulling out his own Bat-issue phone, as he headed towards the pile of bodies still in the centre of the shop.

* * *

Somewhere in Gotham, a man dressed as an overgrown bat received a message. Opening it, he was greeted with a picture. Dick, in the same coffee shop he had caught him in earlier that week, was crouching next to a pile of thugs, thumbs up and grinning like a Cheshire cat. Underneath the picture was the caption: Why aren't you in a coffee shop when people may need your help?

One reflexively closed fist later, and Batman was in need of a new phone.


	6. Chapter 6

Authors note: Disclaimer - still own nothing. First of all, sorry for the wait, I'm in the middle of my GCSE's, but I get a week long break, so I'll try write the next few chapters and get ahead. Thanks for all the interest in this story, you guys really made my day. And again, a massive thank you to my two beta's, go check out sass-mistress-lucifer's stuff for some intense feels. She's the one who told me that Dr Fate's city is Vegas, which I don't think we talk about enough.

Nightwing smiled contentedly in his high backed arm chair, as he looked over at Shaun and Rebecca arguing playfully about who should take out the trash. Surprisingly Rebecca seemed to lose, or possibly surrender, just to get Shaun to shut up. Dick smirked in what he believed was a discreet way, until Rebecca flipped him off as she headed towards the back door.

After spending the next minute glaring at Shaun, daring him to laugh, Nightwing heard the door open again. Followed by a very high pitched animated shout.

"Shaun!" Rebecca called from the back. "Look what I found in the alley!"

Nightwing looked over at the entrance from the back with a mild sense of anticipation, mixed with a little fear. He reassured himself that Rebecca sounded too excited for it to be anything _very _worrying.

He was a little surprised when calm, collected, level-headed Rebecca came back into the cafe, fussing over a cat like a deranged toddler with a new toy.

"It's a cat. And It's so cuuuutttee!" Rebecca cooed in a nonsense tone. "Can we keep him?" she asked Shaun, puppy eyes on full blast.

"Did you just steal someone's cat?" asked Nightwing in disbelief.

"No! I found him in an alley and he meowed at me, and he looks hungry, so now I'm looking after him. He doesn't have a collar, so he probably doesn't belong to anyone. What do you think we should call him?" she asked Shaun, the childish tone returning as she scratched the cat's ears.

"HER name is Teekl you fool! Now put her down!" screamed a high pitched, male voice from behind Nightwing.

Dick paled. He knew that voice. It belonged to an extremely powerful Witch-boy. An extremely powerful Witch-boy Nightwing had never been able to take down working solo. (The last time he had tried was not a memory he wanted to revisit).

Dick shrunk down into his armchair. Klarion hadn't seen him yet, and Dick needed every advantage for this fight. He briefly wondered if it would be best to send out a distress signal to Batman, but he decided against revealing himself to his enemy.

"Aaw. You must be her owner."

Rebecca's simpering voice interrupted Dick's strategic planning. He sent a pointed look her way, a silent alternative to asking her 'What on Earth are you doing? He's clearly not a normal kid. He's bright blue for fuck's sake.'

Unfortunately, Rebecca was otherwise engaged, and paid no notice to the vigilante's silent entreaties to shut the fuck up.

"I am Klarion the Witch Boy, Lord of Chaos! Now give me back my cat!" Klarion screeched at Rebecca, making 'gimme' gestures with his long black nails that Dick knew from experience could do a hell of a lot of damage.

"Sure sweetie." said Rebecca, placing Teekl down on the counter, and walking over to Klarion. "But why are you out so late at night? It's not safe. Why don't we get you some ice cream and then call your parents, okay?" Rebecca said soothingly, guiding Klarion by the shoulders up to the counter; along a route that just so happened to mean he never faced Nightwing.

Nightwing noticed the lack of supervillian between him and the door. He was touched at Rebecca's gesture; but he was a little more grateful for the fact his opponent now had his back to him.

"I don't-" Klarion began, but then paused, sidetracked by the offer of frozen food. "Wait, what flavour?"

Shaun gave Nightwing a piercing look, letting him know it was okay to go with a tilt of his head towards the door. Dick shook his head as he reached for a wingding. Klarion might be acting friendly now, but he was the living embodiment of chaos; he could change in an instant, and Dick wasn't leaving his friends to be eaten by a transformed Teekl.

"Well we've got Half Baked, Clever Cookies, Cookie Dough, Chocolate Fudge Brownie, Phish Food, Peanut Butter Cup, Chunky Monkey and Strawberry." supplied Shaun.

"Strawberry." Klarion answered decisively. "There's nothing better than strawberry."

"Wow, turning down Ben and Jerry's, he really is soulless. Nightwing, kindly show him out."

Dick was tensed, ready to spring into action. But then the bell chimed, and for a long second the world seemed to stop.

'Great,' Dick thought. 'More civilians.' And then from the doorway...

"Oh My God! A kitty cat!" squealed College Kid.

"Teekl." Klarion shouted, by way of an order.

And then there was no longer a kitty cat. There was what appeared to be a demonic tiger in it's place. A demonic tiger with Liz in it's sights.

"NO!" shouted Nightwing, drawing Teekl's attention away from his now horrified and very vulnerable civilian friend. He threw his first wingding, but Teekl leapt clear, and Dick only succeeded in destroying a few of Shaun and Rebecca's mugs in the blast.

"Teekl," called Klarion, and Dick was mildly surprised to see the Lord of Chaos sat on the counter, happily eating his ice cream and waving his spoon in Nightwing's general direction. "Have fun with your new chew toy."

Teekl sprang at Nightwing, who was forced to flip out of his chair, without an opportunity to launch a counter-attack. Just as he thought he was clear Klarion caught him with a spell that knocked him off his precarious perch on a chair arm, and onto the floor with a pained grunt.

Dick was beginning to agree with Wally's stance on magic.

Recovering quickly, Nightwing prepared to throw his second wingding at Klarion in retaliation. But before the disc left his hand, he was knocked over by a very angry, over sized cat, that seemed to delight in pouncing on him as if he were a particularly delicious mouse.

'Shit.' he cursed mentally, as his weapon slid away from his grasp and clattered off across the room, landing at Liz's feet. Although now he had more pressing issues. Like the fangs that were about to sink into his flesh.

Ding. Ding. Ding.

Dick felt Teekl's weight thrown off him, and heard College Kid whimper, even as he silently appreciated her excellent aim. Nailing Teekl in the back with a tiny explosive disc was no easy feat.

"Umm. Sorry... But he was going to eat Nightwing."

"HER name is Teekl! And you hurt her!" Klarion screamed in outrage, eyes glowing with furious red fire.

"And I'm going to hurt her a lot more." came a low voice from behind Dick.

He looked round to find Shaun kneeling on Teekl with a knife pressed to her throat. Dick winced internally; there was a reason civilians shouldn't get involved.

The sickening crack of Shaun's bones as Klarion's magic threw him into a wall was a perfect example of that reason.

Klarion's voice became steadier, indicating the true level of his rage. A calm Klarion was a truly deadly Klarion. "You'll pay for that, foolish mortal."

"Can't blame a guy for trying." Shaun groaned out. "We're not exactly happy with customers who can't pay." he added with a pointed glare at Nightwing.

Dick wasn't sure those were the best last words ever spoken. But then...

Klarion giggled. A vaguely terrifying giggle, that sounded like a demented child after they had murdered a small village. But at least Shaun wasn't dead, which was a plus.

"Of course I can pay." he said with an evil smirk, as Teekl shrunk to her regular size and joined him on the counter.

Klarion snapped his fingers, and everyone in the coffee shop let out various sounds of surprise, ranging from Nightwing's controlled grunt, to Shaun's girly scream.

Thousands of coins were cascading from the ceiling.

And it turned out getting hit by them was quite painful.

Dick was immensely proud of his friends. Rebecca grabbed Shaun, and dragged him round to the other side of the counter, taking shelter under the counter top. College Kid crawled over to Nightwing and started dragging a coffee table to cover their heads. Dick joined the effort, and they were soon completely covered as well.

But the coins kept on falling.

Nightwing began to panic when the coins reached a couple of inches off the ground. It seemed Klarion wanted to bury them all alive. Dick couldn't beat him, and even if he called for back up, no-one would get here in time. It didn't look good. If Batman found his body in the coffee shop he'd find a way to bring Dick back to life and kill him all over again.

"I would have thought robbing banks was below the Lord of Chaos." Nightwing spat out, whilst trying to comfort Liz, who had apparently realised the most likely outcome of their situation.

"Shut up Bird Boy. I didn't steal this from a bank, I took it from Fate's Casino. "Klarion said with an '_obviously, duh_' tone to his voice.

"The guy with the stupid helmet?" Liz piped up.

Instantly the coins stopped, and Klarion started to grin so widely that it looked as though his face might split. "See Teekl, I told you it was a stupid helmet."

Teekl gave the most scathing look Dick had ever seen in reply. And that was quite an achievement, Dick thought, considering he grew up in the Bat-clan.

"Does he actually refer to himself in the third person?" Liz asked, poking her head out from under the table.

"Yes! He's so full of himself; always thinks he's the most powerful." Klarion whined, balling his fists as flames sprang into life around them, his expression childishly peeved.

"He sounds like a dick," said Liz sympathetically, whilst reaching into her backpack. "Here's some pink spray-paint, why don't you see if it works on his helmet?" she offered, handing him a canister.

Klarion cackled, and a moment later disappeared, along with Teekl and the spray-paint. Slowly, the four occupants of the room removed themselves from their cover, wary of the Witch-boy returning.

"Shaun?" Rebecca asked, in a small, broken voice.

Nightwing's head snapped up, scanning Shaun and Rebecca for injuries, as he panicked about what was causing Rebecca to sound so damaged.

"Were you really going to kill a kitty?"

Nightwing was glad to see his reaction was mutual among the others, when College Kid threw a coaster at Rebecca, who unfortunately dodged, and Shaun rolled his eyes so hard they were in danger of falling out of his head.

"What? She was cute-"

Thankfully she was cut off by the bell, before she said anything that would require College Kid to swap to something heavier than coasters as her missile of choice.

"Guys." greeted the cheery voice of Lycra-girl. "We had the best honeymoon ever in this place called Nabu's New Groove and- What the hell happened in here?"

They all exchanged a weary glance.

"A new customer really liked the service and decided to leave a big tip," said Shaun, sarcasm still in tact. Then a thought crossed his mind. "Can we keep all this?" he asked Nightwing, gesturing at the coins covering the shop floor. "As a tip, obviously."

"Shaun," Rebecca chided. "he got it from a dodgy magical casino, we'd probably get done for money laundering."

"Well what would you rather do with it Rebecca?" asked Shaun, with a raised eyebrow.

Dick shook his head in disbelief, unbelieving of how quickly Shaun and Rebecca got back to their own special brand of flirting, and unsure of just quite how he was going to write an incident report for this.

"Congratulations." he muttered to Lycra-girl and her now husband on his way out.

"On the wedding or avoiding whatever the hell happened here?" Karen asked, looking around at the chaos as Shaun began happily picking up coins from the floor.

"Both, probably." Mark replied with a long suffering sigh. Then: "Do you want to make a rapid escape?"

"I love the way you think sweetheart."

* * *

Dear ToLateForMe,

Sorry I didn't reply until know, but I couldn't PM you. I'm sorry to hear you were feeling sad, but I am glad you found something that cheers you up. Feel free to message me, or leave something in the reviews if you have an idea you'd really like to see in a chapter. Seriously though, feel free to message me, and if you turn on PM's I'm sure I could make you laugh with some stupid headcanons; or you could just laugh at me. Either way.


	7. Chapter 7

Author's note: Disclaimer - I own nothing. I am so sorry about the ridiculously long time this took. I had a wee bit of a fight with my mother about how much time I was allowed to spend on my computer during exams, and lets just say I lost spectacularly. Thanks especially to my beta's, who made this chapter so much better than it was going to be.

Dick was trying to get comfortable in his armchair. This was harder than it seemed, as growing up in a circus where death-defying jumps and flips occurred daily for other people's entertainment, and then going on to become a vigilante where death-defying jumps and flips occurred daily to dodge other people's bullets, generally left people with a great deal more flexibility than the rest of the population of chair-sitting lifeforms. Unfortunately, this also meant that there were an awful lot more positions that one could sit in a chair. Hence why finding the most comfortable spot became a lot more difficult.

So this led to the slightly comical scene of a fully uniformed vigilante sitting upside-down in his plush plum-coloured chair, with both hands on his phone, one leg thrown over the chair's back, the other draped over the side, and all in all balanced in a spot that threatened a very intimate meeting with the floor at any minute.

Rebecca decided that enough was enough when she saw him somehow take a sip of coffee whilst doing an impromptu headstand.

"Should I call an exorcist?" she asked semi-seriously.

"Hmmm." Dick held eye contact whilst smoothly twisting himself back the right way up, not a drop of coffee spilling from his cup. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to see _just _how flexible I am?"

"No!" Shaun butted in, before Rebecca even opened her mouth.

"Not quite sure how to break this to you, but I wasn't asking you Shaun."

"I know that, you twat. I was answering for Rebecca."

"I don't think you get to do that Shaun." warned College Kid wisely, glancing up from her ever-present laptop with one eyebrow raised.

"Yes, and no." he said, pointing at College Kid and Nightwing in turn. "She should be working, not flirting. It's unproductive."

Rebecca's hands migrated to her hips. "We have two customers, and they've both been served; how _exactly_ am I being unproductive by flirting with the fit guy in the skin tight suit?"

"And face it, she'll probably get bigger tips this way; much more 'productive'." teased Nightwing.

"That's it! You're banned."

Nightwing had no words.

"Shaun!" Rebecca scolded. "We don't just _ban_ people. Remember the lorry driver who came in at three in the morning and started playing the bagpipes? _That_ would have been a good time to start banning people."

"See, we've been too lenient. Now people think it's okay to harass my staff."

"I think you'll find that _you _are _my _staff."

There was an awkward pause.

"Well... I'm defending your honour." Shaun said eventually, before turning back to Nightwing with one threatening finger raised. "Now get out."

Noting College Kid's subtle head shake, Dick got up to leave, desperately trying not to laugh at the absurdity of Shaun's pseudo-threat. He wasn't too worried about whatever the Brit could throw at him.

Firstly, he was pretty sure Rebecca would chastise Shaun, resulting in her and Shaun awkwardly dancing round their feelings for each other, and him subsequently being allowed back in by tomorrow.

And secondly, he saw College Kid blogging about him getting thrown out. Now, when Nightwing left Batman behind, and told his former friends and colleague's not to follow him to Bludhaven, _or else_, they knew he wasn't joking. But in recent months relations between him and the rest of the hero community had softened somewhat, and he knew that nearly all of his adopted family was waiting for any excuse to come and harass him. And him getting kicked out of a coffee shop was just the excuse he knew they were waiting for. So Nightwing discreetly dropped a 'liberated' bat-cam so he could see the fallout, and legged it.

Nightwing picked a nearby rooftop, and settled down to watch the fun.

Five minutes later, an overexcited Green Arrow zeta'd directly into the shop. Dick suspected Black Canary had sent him to see if he was doing okay...either that, or the archer was just here with a specific MO to annoy him. And then, right on cue...

"Oh. My. God!" whispered College Kid.

'Is she going to react like that every time she meets a superhero?' Dick thought with a hint of amusement. 'Well, except Batman.' he amended, grinning fondly at the memory.

"Hi. You must be Liz, Oracle mentioned you." Oliver growled out in his Green Arrow voice. It was a little rougher than he'd normally use for civilians; with a small amount of guilt, Nightwing realised he had let slip Liz's views about Green Arrow's moustache to Oracle. It seemed Oracle had tended the gossip vine well.

Fortunately, it seemed College Kid had no shame, and apparently, no sense of her own impending doom either.

"Dude! What the fuck is your moustache doing? Look at it! It has a life of it's own. Is it controlling you? Should I shave it off?" College Kid jabbered on rapidly, and Nightwing smiled into the night. Ollie was not used to anything other than serious flirtation from civilians he spoke to, and Dick was certain no-one had ever offered to destroy his mind-controlling facial hair. Nightwing could only hope one of the 3ITM got a picture of the archer's face as his ego deflated.

Then a distraction arrived in the form of Shaun.

"No."

There was more strength and determination in that one word than Dick had heard from the majority of his colleagues. And that was impressive. Mainly because he knew Wonder Woman. And Black Canary. And Zatanna. And Oracle. Okay, maybe he should amend that to the majority of his _male _colleagues.

"Hi. I'm-" the green-clad vigilante started, before he was cut off by Shaun hitting his hand angrily on the counter.

"No. Get out of my shop. No, actually, buy a coffee, and _then_ get out. Rebecca! I'm starting a no vigilantes rule; they're invading!" Shaun called out in an awkward flurry of too many words.

Nightwing heard a door slam, and figured Rebecca must have been in the back room.

"What are you-" she questioned as she entered the madness, only to cut herself off at the sight of yet another attractive superhero in a tight outfit gracing her coffee shop.

"Hi. You must be Rebecca." Oliver said, reverting back to his usual smooth self.

"And you must be here for Nightwing."

"Straight to the point, I like it. But don't worry; I'm just here to piss him off."

Dick could practically hear the conspiratorial wink with a side order of flirty. Oliver Queen everyone. How Dinah had put up with him for more than a week was anybody's guess.

College Kid quickly piped with her own eclectic brand of wisdom, preventing Oliver from saying anything to Rebecca that would have given Shaun a stress ulcer. "So I gotta ask, does the moustache ever cause you secret identity problems? What would happen if I started a #badtache trend, and got people to take pictures of people with dodgy facial hair. I'm pretty sure I could find out who you are."

Dick threw his head back to laugh, and noticed a light on the top of the coffee shop. Curiosity sufficiently piqued, he headed over the rooftops to investigate.

When he reached his destination he was greeted with the sight of Shaun holding a flashlight with a terrible attempt at the Nightwing symbol cut out from cardboard taped to the top. Dick snorted when he realised this was Shaun's attempt at a making him a Bat-Signal.

"Shut up, we can't all steal money from the GCPD to make ridiculous and out-dated methods of communication that make smoke signals look cutting edge. And anyway, it got you to come."

"I guess you're right. But why did you want me to come here? I thought I was banned?" Dick asked, his shit-eating grin returning as he clapped one hand over his heart in mock hurt.

"One of your _friends_," Shaun hissed the last word. "has come looking for you. Get rid of him."

"And why would I do that for you?"

"Just stay away from Rebecca and chase off any other so-called 'heroes' who break into my shop and start hitting on my-" Shaun stopped talking abruptly.

"Your 'what', Shaun?" Dick asked in an amused tone.

"My...my co-worker. I mean, I personally may not like her, not in the way you're insinuating because I like her as a friend, but, well, she deserves better than... Well I mean she shouldn't-"

"You, are an idiot." Nightwing cut him off without any real malice, before Shaun's ramble became so awkward and embarrassing that the earth literally did open up and swallow him whole.

"And you, are a complete and utter twat my friend. I just didn't realise your Justice League buddies could possibly be worse. Now, can you get rid of Green Arrow?"

"And what exactly do I get out of it?"

Shaun snorted. "Clearly more of whatever you get out of dressing up in spandex to get shot at every night."

Dick raised an eyebrow. Shaun stared back, but clearly his territorialness over Rebecca won out over man pride as he relented. "Fine! I'll stop charging you for coffee."

"And you're only asking me to do this because Green Arrow is worse than me?" Shaun didn't even have to look at him to see the smirk.

"Yes."

Nightwing merely cackled in response, and dramatically leapt off the side of the building, leaving Shaun to follow at his own pace.

* * *

"Hey GA!" called Dick, swinging his six foot of pure muscle lightly through the door of the coffee shop.

"I thought you said he wasn't coming back here?" Oliver asked College Kid, with no trace of surprise in his tone. Nightwing was a Bat, and Bats were territorial as hell. He'd swear they had radars for when other heroes appeared in their cities.

"Oh, I _was _banned, but then Shaun offered me free coffee for life to kick you out of his shop for hitting on Rebecca. I didn't feel the need to tell him you're dating Black Canary." Dick answered for her.

Rebecca made a small sound of disappointment from across the room.

"I guess I should leave then." the Starling City hero replied, turning his back on the ball of hyper that was Liz.

"Nope. I'm getting paid to kick you out." said Nightwing with a grin, as he drew his escrima sticks, advancing slowly enough that Ollie had time to clock the situation and draw his bow with a similarly wicked smile. "And I _did_ tell the League to stay out of my territory. So let's go."

* * *

Truthfully, Nightwing was not angry at Oliver, and even if he was, he still wouldn't seriously hurt an ally. And Ollie would never ever hurt the kid that was practically his nephew, even if he wasn't warned off from laying a single finger on his head on pain of death-by-Bat. So after what was essentially a sparring session, cheered on by a very excited College Kid, Dick let Oliver return to Star City to lick his wounds that were mainly dignity related. (Hey, being on home ground always did have it's benefits).

In fact, it was the coffee shop that was looking worse for wear by the time Shaun made it back into the front room of the coffee shop.

"What the bloody hell happened in here?!" Shaun yelled once he took in the smashed table and chairs scattered around the room.

"Nightwing threw Green Arrow onto a table, and it smashed, and it was awesome, and I got everything on camera, and then Nightwing started throwing out Wing Dings and then there were projectiles flying everywhere and that was equally awesome, and then Nightwing started flipping everywhere liked a demented slinky and that's why there are arrows in the walls, and then GA started launching chairs at him and Rebecca and I hid behind the counter and it was so freaking awesome! This is the best day ever! Can I put this on Facebook?" Liz blurted out.

Shaun looked aghast at the damage. "I told you to get him out of my shop, not destroy my shop."

"So you told him to chase off a new customer? Now who's the unproductive one?" Rebecca scorned.

"And you did ask two superheroes to fight in an enclosed space, what did you think was going to happen?" College Kid pointed out.

"I don't care. You better fix this. Break it, buy it." Shaun ordered, glaring angrily at the still-panting Nightwing.

Dick cackled as he flipped over the broken tables on his way to the door, stowing his escrima sticks somewhere behind his back in an area that no-one quite wanted to think about.

"And stop cackling, I can't stand it! You're meant to be one of the heroes, not a second rate cliched villain." Shaun continued shouting even after Nightwing had left.

"He's plotting something." College Kid told Rebecca, after Shaun had gone into the back room to continue grumbling to himself.

"Of course. Think he'll let us help?"


	8. Chapter 8

_Authors note: Disclaimer - I don't own anything. Sorry about the long wait, but it's been a really shitty month. A huge thank you to my beta's, especially my friend who gave me the motivation (read fear for my life) to finish this chapter. unfortunately, one of my beta's is unavailable this time, so any spelling/grammar mistakes are entirely my fault, she's also going by a-really-angry-sorceress now, in case you want to check out her work (you really should)._

Behind Blüdhaven City College, a figure lurked.

The shadows cast by the setting winter sun created dark alcoves where the common people daren't wander. With good reason.

Narrowed eyes found their target, the red sun making her hair glow ginger, left alone by people that should have been surrounding her; she was alone.

In one quick move, she was gone.

A scream rang through the dusk.

* * *

"Oh my god, you can go out in daylight!" College Kid shrieked at Nightwing. "When did this happen? Are you burning right now? Does it hurt? Should you stand in the shade? Are you going to make me take that video down? Can Batman survive in daytime as well? Why did you grab me?"

Dick sighed. "Since always. No. No. We're already in a dark alley. Of course. Yes. I need your help."

"Aaw come on it's a really good video, it totally got your best side- Wait, hold up, help with what? Is the city in danger? Is one of my college professors an alien in disguise? Oh my god, am I going to be in a boss fight?"

"I need your help annoying Shaun. Do you have Rebecca's number?"

"Of course not, she's just a lady at a coffee shop; why would I have her number? I do know where she lives though." Liz jabbered on. "Why? Are you going to ask her out? She is pretty. Or is this some weird type of competition with Shaun?"

"I'm not going to ask her out." Nightwing ground out. After refusing to answer his comm, he had awoken to a large pile of mail from Green Arrow teasing him about the pretty new friend he had made. It didn't bear thinking about what would happen if _Starfire_ found out. "Just tell me where she lives."

"Okay."

But instead of telling him she simply grabbed his hand and began to drag him down the alley, as if it were normal for a teenager not yet out of school to be dragging a fully outfitted vigilante through the half-dark streets of afternoon-midwinter.

"Don't worry. It's not that far."

"I was actually planning on going over the roofs Liz." Dick sighed.

"Cool. Can we-"

"No!" he cut her off, not liking the smirk and excited sparkle of her eyes that usually heralded something bad happening "You will break your neck. Just tell me where Rebecca lives."

"Fine," she huffed, "She lives in the South-hill building. It's uh.. that-a-way." she pointed somewhere vaguely northeast. "Race ya!"

Dick shook his head at Liz's general attitude before taking out his grapple gun and ascending to the rooftops. He tracked her progress, making sure he was going the right way, and laughed at her clumsy collisions with more than a few pedestrians. When she finally reached an apartment building, he dropped down in front of her just as she pressed the buzzer.

"I win." He smirked.

She gave him a look.

He returned it.

"Hello?" Rebecca's voice came through the intercom.

"Hey Rebecca, it's Liz. And Nightwing! Apparently he can survive in daylight." she announced, in a painfully cheery tone.

"Hi. Can we come up?" Dick added, a little unsure of his new role as the sensible one.

"Okay." He could hear the dubiousness in her voice even through the tinny intercom, as they both entered the building.

Nightwing had a hard time not laughing as he and Liz climbed the stairs. She was giving him the most intense look of hatred he had ever received in his life, as she struggled to keep pace with him. Dick decided that climbing the next flight of stairs with casual handsprings was the solution.

She got her revenge by yanking his collar, and pulling him off the next flight of stairs mid hand-spring, and back down to the landing, almost making him lose his balance.

"It's this floor." she said in a falsely sweet voice.

At the first knock, Rebecca opened the door.

"What's wrong? And why are you in costume when it's not even completely dark yet?" she asked, looking a little worried, but not doing a bad job of trying to hide it.

"Nothing, I just needed to get something done before my shift started. And I can't really wear anything else; I do have a secret identity. So, when exactly does Shaun get into work?"

"Our shift starts at 10, but he usually turns up a little earlier to set up. Why?"

"Shaun told me to fix the damage, remember? So can you come with me to the shop?"

"Dude, c'mon. We can't all survive without sleep." Rebecca whined.

"Okay, but I _am_ going to be changing some stuff," he warned, flashing her a mischievous grin. "And I thought you would like to know." He said, turning to leave.

"Hang on, wait! Stop!"

"Relax. I'm not going to-"

"No wait. You don't know what Shaun hates. I'll tell the day shift I'm relieving them an hour early tonight. Meet me at the shop at nine, bring whatever you were planning, and there's some other stuff you should pick up too." said Rebecca, grabbing a pen and some paper from a small table in the entrance hallway, and scribbling furiously. "Think you can do that?"

Nightwing glanced down at the list. "Uh, sure. But this is some weird-"

"Great. Now would you kindly fuck off and let me sleep? You of all people should know what it's like working nights." Rebecca said, before shutting her door just a little too gently for her to be actually angry at being disturbed.

"Are you actually going shopping? I mean you _are_ in costume. Are vigilantes allowed in Walmart?" College Kid asked rapidly, looking at him suspiciously.

"I'm not going shopping," he pushed the list into her hand. "You are."

She glanced at the list. Then at him with a disbelieving look. "No, I'm not. I'm a student. I can't afford anything." she explained slowly, as if to a particularly stupid child.

Dick sighed internally. There was no other choice. "I am about to entrust you with something no civilian was meant to see. Get only what is on Rebecca's list! I will _know_."

"Oh my god," she whispered, in a tone filled with reverence and awe. "I was right… the bat-card does exist!"

Dick handed it over, strongly wishing he hadn't started the bat-trend when he was a child.

* * *

"So where is he? We've only got like, half an hour before Shaun turns up." Liz jumped at Rebecca the moment she launched herself through the door.

"I've been expecting you." Cliched Nightwing, internally cackling as he dropped down from the ceiling behind her.

"So... How long have you been lurking up there?" Rebecca asked.

"_Since before you started singing_."

"Okay. Any chance the league is sending you on a really dangerous mission soon that you'll die on before you can mention this?"

"Yes, actually."

"Okay fine, don't actually do that. But never mention it to anyone. Never!"

"About that, someone else already knows." Nightwing smirked at her, waiting for her reaction with vindictive pleasure.

"What?"

In a burst of yellow electricity, Flash was standing next to Nightwing, offering his hand to Rebecca. It was quickly dropped when he took note of her murderous expression.

"When did you...?"

"I got here with Nightwing, I was just moving too fast for you to see."

"I hate you both."

"But you hate him more right?" Flash asked seriously.

"I think so."

Nightwing clutched a hand to his heart. "How can you say that? I'm great to you people. I even brought help, see." he said, grabbing Wally.

Suddenly, the door flung open accompanied by a shout of, "Did you attack GA?!"

"Yes." was Dick's extremely calm reply.

"Nice one." said Red Arrow, stepping into the shop. "What'd he do?"

"He was trespassing, so we had a bit of a fight. And now I'm fixing the shop we broke. Wanna help?"

"Is this pretty lady the owner?" he asked, thumbing to Rebecca.

"Yep." Nightwing replied simply, while trying to open a paint tin he recovered from the floor with a screwdriver.

"Okay then." he agreed readily. "So what exactly were you planning?"

"I'm redecorating. And filling in all the holes in the wall. Well actually, I brought Flash for that."

"Why do I get all the boring jobs?" the speedster whined.

Four pairs of eyes turned to stare at him.

"Dude, you are literally a superhero! That is not a boring job!" College Kid chastised him.

"Yeah, but being a speedster sucks. Just because you can do stuff quicker than everyone else people think it's okay to ask you to do all kinds of boring crap. I mean, this is the first time we've met up in nearly half a year, and it's only because you need someone to do menial tasks for you." Wally pouted.

"The quicker you start, the quicker you finish. And the quicker the holes fill in." Dick sighed, handing him some Polyfilla.

A moment later he handed a Polyfilla covered filling knife and a half empty tub back. "See?!" he moaned to College Kid, mentioning to the wall that definitely had holes in it two seconds before.

"That does suck, but if anyone else tries it, can't you just claim you had to do some justice league stuff and run away? Besides, filling in wall-holes is better in superspeed than spending two hours wall-hole filling"

"Well, yeah," he said miserably. "But I can't exactly tell a member of the league that I'm busy with league stuff. Although I could go-" he began talking faster as he got happier.

"No" Nightwing cut him off without even looking before he could forget why he was here and run off somewhere else. "You're meant to be helping remember?"

"Yeah I know, so what's next?"

"Did you pick up all the stuff?" Rebecca asked Liz.

"Yeah. Although the man in the shop looked at me really weird when I said I needed him to print me a five foot square poster of yoghurt, and a framed picture of a florin next to a bottle of cantarella; I don't think I can go back in that shop."

"Why would-" Red Arrow tried to ask.

"Inside joke," Rebecca cut him off, while starting to blush. "kinda hard to explain."

"And the rest of the stuff?" Red Arrow asked as one of his eyebrows edged higher and higher.

"That's to piss off the historian in him." Rebecca said fondly. "We are having a theme night."

* * *

"Should we be worried about the three scary vigilantes disappearing into the backroom? What if they've beating up some guy hanging from a meat-hook?" asked Liz a short while later.

"There aren't any meat-hooks back there Liz." Rebecca promised.

"Can I go film whatever they're doing?"

"No."

There was a muffled call of 'left a bit, aah aah- no right,' followed by a muffled grunt, and Liz making a sound like she was going to burst. "Sorry, I have to go see what they're doing." she giggled, running into the backroom.

"Oh My God! How are you even going to get that to fit properly?! How did you even get it in? Where did it even come from?!"

At College Kid's outburst, Rebecca couldn't contain her curiosity any longer, and risked a peek into the back room. There she saw the three superheroes carefully maneuvering a massive crystal chandelier through the door.

"Damn this thing is heavy." Roy complained.

"Do you want me to-" Liz began to offer.

"No!" Nightwing cut her off sharply. "Umm, you're not used to this sort of thing, you might hurt yourself." he added hastily.

"Because you guys normally spend your time like this? What exactly goes on in Watchtower?" Liz asked incredulously.

At that Roy and Wally started snickering, and the faintest of flushes appeared on Dick's cheeks. Rebecca decided that that was a sign she needed to stop whatever the trio had planned.

"Okay, I don't know why you have a chandelier, but it is giant and impractical, and you can take it right back where you found it, because you are not keeping that monstrosity in my shop."

"Don't worry, I'm just borrowing it for the evening; it'll be gone by tomorrow."

"How exactly did you get Agent A to agree to this?" asked Wally.

"I want to know how he snuck it out the house from right underneath Batman's nose." Roy grunted.

"Please, he can do anything; you should know that by now." Nightwing scoffed, a note of apprehension creeping into his voice as they eased the chandelier through the door into the front of the shop. "Now how do we fix this to the ceiling?"

After what Dick declared to be the most stressful fifteen minutes of his life, the five people in the shop finally agreed that the crystal monstrosity wasn't in immediate danger of falling on them, and the wallpaper and posters were all accepted to have been hung straight. That only left the broken table and chairs to replace.

"Traditional family bonding time!" Dick yelled, slinging an arm around each of his friends' necks. "Who's up for some flat pack furniture?"

It took a few of his more creative threats to get Liz to delete the video of three members of the Justice League arguing which way up the instructions went for a whole five minutes.

* * *

Dick was waiting on his chandelier perch for Shaun to arrive with all the patience of a kid on Christmas Eve, surveying the scene below him with childish glee. Roy and Wally had agreed to stay and had offered to patrol the city with him, and Dick found himself looking forward to being able to catch up properly once they were alone. And it wouldn't be long now. They just had to wait until…

"Rebecca… What…" Shaun questioned eloquently, as soon as he walked through the door. He seemed to be struggling to process the sight of his co-worker, one of his regulars, and two superheroes sitting round a table chatting like old friends... in a completely changed coffee shop. "Why are there more superheroes?" he hissed, glaring especially hard at Red Arrow, as if he was expecting him to declare he was here to exact revenge on behalf of his mentor.

"Well, these two came looking for Nightwing, but they'd been searching the city for a while and looked kinda hungry, so as Marie Antoinette said 'let them eat cake.'" Liz explained in her cheeriest tone, pushing another cupcake towards Wally. Which then vanished.

Nightwing could see Shaun fighting the urge to roll his eyes. "It wasn't Marie Antoinette who said that, it was Marie-Therese, Louis XIV's wife. Eugh, you Americans are completely incapable of learning anything not about your own country." he scoffed.

Roy snorted. "Wow, you really weren't kidding about him Rebecca."

"Kidding about what Rebecca?" Shaun asked, suspicion creeping into his voice.

"Oh, your boss is just full of funny stories." Roy told him conversationally, with an undercurrent of threat. "In fact, she was just about to talk us through these poster choices." He gestured to the two-yoghurt and mini-fridge posters, and the florin-arsenic painting.

Shaun visibly paled. "No she wasn't. I think she was about to go get some more pastries out of the back." he replied with a pointed glare at Rebecca. "Now!" he added with a bit more force, after she only giggled at him.

"Wow, you've got a temper shorter than Napoleon." Wally told him, in a good natured tone.

"He wasn't actually short." Shaun snapped counter-productively.

"He was like five foot two."

"Yes, but in French feet, that'd be about five seven in real feet. Much like you Americans today, they didn't have proper units of measurements.

"Are you still angry that we measure temperature different? Come on don't be such a celsiass." Rebecca teased him.

"Ugh, if President Ford had only finished what he started I wouldn't have to put up with your ridiculous and backwards units."

"Oh yeah, he was like our 16th president, right?" Wally piped up, playing the infuriatingly oblivious card perfectly. 'Not that that's too hard for him.' Nightwing thought with a grin.

"38th! Abraham Lincoln was the 16th! How can you not know that?!" Shaun yelled incredulously, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling, where they seemed to get stuck. "Nightwing, get off the bloody chandelier." he continued in a resigned tone, not even questioning why they had a chandelier. Then he took a closer look. "Are you wearing a Viking helmet?" he asked suspiciously.

"Uh-huh. I think the little horns are pretty neat don't you?" Nightwing grinned widely as he swung back down to ground level; landing with the grace of a cat.

Just before he had to dodge a falling chandelier.

There was a moment of complete silence, where nobody moved a muscle, as all the dust the crash had caused began to settle. Then Wally opened his mouth.

"Looks like the joke's on you!" he said, sticking his tongue out at Nightwing, just before a whoosh of air and the crackle of speed-force announced his hasty retreat.


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's note: Disclaimer - Still own nothing. Thank you to starletrose for the review, you got in there fast, I'm impressed. And as always, thank you to my lovely beta's._

_Anyway, the last chapter needed a part two, because reasons._

Nightwing chuckled softly to himself as the speedster made his (actually unnecessary) escape; it seemed his backup for the evening had just been halved. But he still had a job to do, and as Batman always said, friends were a distraction, even if Dick used to shout at him for saying that. Although he only had to remember that Wally wasn't the first Flash, and Batman's advice suddenly made much more sense. But Dick decided to continue being passive-aggressive, and consciously going against everything Batman said, just to spite him.

"Well, we need to get going." he told Roy suddenly.

"Oi! You can't just leave! What about the mess you just made?" Shaun protested, gesturing to the newly created health and safety hazard decorating the middle of the coffee shop.

Dick shuddered a little. "Someone will be along to take care of it before the end of the night." he said forlornly.

Roy shot him a worried look, as he realised what was coming. "Yeah, we should really get going now." he agreed, heading out the door.

Dick followed him, sparing one last glance for the newly installed memorial for opulence. He received a glare from Shaun and an amused smirk from Rebecca for his troubles. Something close to regret flashed clearly across his face, hidden the next second, but not before it was noticed by Liz who gave him a small smile in an attempt to cheer him up. Leaving the shop with a jingle, he fired his grapple-gun to join Roy on the rooftops.

"What do we do now? We're going to be killed." Red Arrow asked in a low, strained voice, as he scanned the city beneath him for signs of trouble.

"Don't worry, guilty people always return to the scene of the crime." Nightwing reassured him quietly.

"There is no way _we're_ going back there." Red Arrow hissed at Nightwing, clearly questioning his sanity.

"Of course not, but Flash will. He left an energy bar in the coffee shop after his quick get away, and after Batman chewed him out the last time he left one lying around in a public place, he's going to come back for it. Just in case a civilian finds it and put themselves in a diabetic coma after eating it. So we just have to hope he goes back for it, and then gets caught at the scene."

Roy turned to look at Dick. "And what's to stop him ratting us both out to save his own skin?" he asked condescendingly.

* * *

At that exact moment in time, Liz was draining the last mouthful of her frappe, standing up, and getting ready to leave. But the next second she wasn't the only one stood round the table.

"Hi again." Wally greeted everyone in the shop loudly. "Sorry, forgot something, had to come back. By the way, did Nightwing seem very angry after I left? I kinda forgot, but him letting me into Blüdhaven was a big deal and I should have been really nice to him. He didn't do the death glare at the door I just walked out of, did he? Because death by-" Wally stopped talking suddenly, staring at a corner, at the back of the room, while all the blood drained from his face.

Liz was about to ask him what was wrong, when an elderly man dressed in an immaculate suit and a domino mask that appeared to match Nightwing's, stepped forward into the light, seemingly appearing out of thin air to the civilians in the room. Liz immediately christened him the Bat-granddad.

He looked at the remains of the chandelier, then at Wally, with a pointedly neutral expression.

"It was all Nightwing's fault." the Flash whispered. "He was swinging on it."

The man let out a long suffering sigh, his features softening slightly. "He used to do the same thing back when he was younger." he informed Wally in a cultured, British accent. "I had hoped he would have matured a bit by now." He turned to Shaun and Rebecca. "I will have someone come within the hour to remove this." he said stiffly before drawing back into the shadows.

Oh my god!" Liz exclaimed at the top of her voice, making everyone jump. "Hold up, you knew Nightwing when he was tiny. That's so awesome! Do you have baby photos? Did he go through an awkward teen phase? Please tell me his voice cracked while he was trying to do the low, intimidating thing at least once-" Liz stopped her inquisition when she realised the shadow was talking to was empty. "Is that hereditary?" she asked Flash in a small voice.

Flash began laughing hysterically to himself, as he sank down into a chair. "I'm still alive." he said gleefully. "I'm still alive, and- Oh shit! Now Nightwing's going to die, and he's going to blame me. I don't want to be haunted by someone trained by Batman; that's got to be twice as scary as a regular ghost." he rambled quicker and quicker, as he realised the full extent of the damage he had just caused.

* * *

"I'm sure he wouldn't do that to his friends." Nightwing reasoned weakly to Roy. They both looked at each other for a second.

"We're fucked aren't we?" Roy asked quietly.

"Language, Master Speedy." the shadows scolded him.

They both turned around painfully slowly, the two superheroes unwilling to face the one authority figure they knew they had to respect.

"Uh, it's Red Arrow now?" Roy muttered uncertainly, mainly to himself, ducking his head after receiving a humbling glare from Agent A.

"Please don't make me." Dick begged suddenly, with more emotion than any outsider had ever seen from a member of the Bat-family. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Roy make a small move, as if going to give him a hug; and then stop suddenly, as he realised that would most likely end in grievous bodily harm.

"You promised, I'm afraid. Five o'clock, this Sunday, on the dot please." he told Dick, in a tone that was dangerously close to smug, before merging back into the shadows.

As soon as Alfred left, Dick drew his grapple gun, and went to the nearest perch to brood, leaving behind a slightly exasperated Roy, who simply shrugged off his frustration, and started to climb the fire escape, muttering about crazy bat-habits, for as long as he thought he was out of earshot.

"What's all that about?" Roy asked, joining Dick at the edge of the frieze.

"I promised him that if I damaged his chandelier in any way, I'd go to a family dinner." Dick said forlornly.

"Well that's not so bad-" Roy started to console him, but quickly stopped as self preservation instincts kicked in.

"This is all Shaun's fault somehow," Dick complained petulantly to Red Arrow. "After we finish patrol you're going to help me bankrupt him with free lattes."

"You get free drinks for being a vigilante? People in Blüdhaven are nice." Roy observed, trying to cheer his friend up, or at least distract him before the infamous bat-melancholy could set in.

"Actually, I get them free for beating the shit out of GA. It's funny though, because I don't think Shaun likes you either." Nightwing informed his friend dryly, before stepping off the side of the stone, to drop down into the middle of a gang of thugs.

* * *

Just like Agent A promised, someone come along fifteen minutes later to pick up the pieces. Wally, (who had hung around after Liz started throwing muffins at him, trying to see just how much he could eat,) offered to help the man move the pieces into his van. When he took the remnants of the chain down from the ceiling, there was an indignant cry.

"This link was cut part way through. It wouldn't have held the chandelier's own weight for long, let alone Nightwing's."

Agent A stepped out of the back of the van, reminiscent of the way the Bat himself could appear out of nowhere. "Master Nightwing was being too stubborn for his own good, this was for his benefit, and you will not breathe a word of it to him." he warned Wally sternly.

Wally nodded quickly, and tossed the rest of the shards into the van haphazardly. Alfred nodded his thanks, and Wally risked a cautious wave goodbye as Alfred drove away. He was about to retreat to Central, when he caught Liz, half hidden in the doorway, still staring in the direction Agent A had left.

"Don't worry," he told her cheerily. "The bat-family can't show affection like normal people; they have to do it secretly." he winked, and took of running.

Then he appeared back in the shop. "Seriously though, don't ever tell anyone what happened, Agent A will find you." he warned them all, before picking up his energy bar, and departing for good, leaving a very disappointed looking College Kid to take down her latest Facebook update.

* * *

_To the person who left the guest review; first of all congratulations on your history degree; I hope you find a job in your chosen field soon. And I'm sorry, I am trying to get some serious stuff in, but I keep getting distracted by shiny stuff. I just find it really hard to write serious stuff for Nightwing, but I really am working on it. Hopefully you'll like the chapter after next more._


	10. Chapter 10

Author's note: Disclaimer - Don't own anything. Hi. So explanation as to why this took so long - I just went in to sixth form, and my marks have been slipping, so I haven't really been allowed to write much. I'm really sorry, and I hope to be updating every three and a half weeks from now on.

"And now for the most important part of patrol, rookie: getting coffee," Dick's new S.O. told him cheerfully. She seemed a cheerful lady so far, very committed to her job, but she had just made one grievous sin in Dick's opinion. She had pulled up just around the corner from the coffee shop Dick visited at night; and if Dick went somewhere as a civilian where he frequented as Nightwing, his chances of getting recognised where going to be much higher than usual.

"C'mon," Officer Jodie told him, taking off her seatbelt. "I'll introduce you to the crew; they're a real bunch of characters."

'Shit,' Dick thought, panicking slightly, 'this isn't going to end well.'

Dick got out of the car, ducked his head, and obediently started shuffling after his new partner, his sense of foreboding growing with every step.

"Great espressos here, if you ever get the 7 a.m start," Jodie chatted amiably.

"I'll remember that," Dick replied quietly. "Although I think it might take more than that for me to be awake for the beginning of my shift."

Jodie laughed at him. "You'll get the hang of it, don't worry. With all the crazy stuff that goes on in this town you'll be up at the crack of dawn often enough to make you a morning person."

"Maybe." Dick sighed. To tell the truth, he had always been an early bird. In the days before Dick had known Bruce was Batman, he had nearly killed his adopted father through sleep deprivation, getting up at the crack of dawn and bouncing all over the master bed, not realising the other man had probably arrived at the mansion only twenty minutes before. However, during his police training he had gained a reputation as a bit of a grouch on a morning. Dick suspected the rest of his colleagues wouldn't be so sprightly if they had to stay up till three in the morning, and get up at half six most days. It really didn't leave you in the best mood.

"Well this is the place - best coffee in town, for the price; nice pastries too." Jodie continued while they made their way over. Dick held the shop door for her, praying for divine intervention so he wouldn't have to go in. But God had obviously used all of his earthly powers for the next ten years on stopping Damien killing every other member of the Batclan, because help came. Keeping his head down, Dick stepped reluctantly over the threshold. The cheerful ring of the bell had never seemed so wrong.

"Hey guys, this is my new partner, Dick Grayson," Jodie greeted loudly, while Dick cringed.

He risked a quick peek from under his hair, then had to do a double take. A guy about Liz's age, who had been typing furiously on a laptop, looked up at them both with a face like he was sucking a lemon. Serving a cyclist couple were a man and woman who were finding time to glare at each other in between each stage of making the orders. All of the changes Nightwing had made the night before were gone, with the exception of the table and chairs, and the repairs to the wall. The differences were jarring.

"So, how long before he takes a bribe do you think, Jodie?" the young man on his laptop asked snidely.

Dick opened his mouth with every intention of setting the kid straight, but Jodie placed a restraining hand on his arm.

"That's Lex, he's a bit of a cynic, but don't worry, he'll grow on you," Jodie intervened, before Dick had chance to speak his mind.

"That's not answering my question, _Officer,_" the young man taunted.

God, Dick wished he was in his costume right now; he suspected Lex wouldn't have had quite as much to say when faced with Bludhaven's own dangerous and quite possibly insane vigilante.

"That won't ever happen," Dick said darkly, working hard to stop himself slipping into the intimidating growl he was supposed to save for his night job.

The man behind the counter paused his glaring match with the female member of staff to snort derisively. "Sure kid," he scoffed. "When pigs fly."

Dick turned to Jodie, as if to ask whether this guy would grow on him too. He received a slightly raised eyebrow in return.

"Umm. Hi, I don't think we've met before," Jodie tried bravely.

"That's William," the woman behind the counter practically spat. "It's only temporary," she added before turning away.

"Are you going to order anything?" William asked borderline aggressively.

"A latte and a…" Jodie trailed off, turning to Dick.

"I'll have the same thanks," he answered, bat-paranoia preventing him from ordering his regular espresso.

With one last look of disgust, the grumpy middle aged man turned his back to them, to get on with the orders.

"So Kerrie, how've you been?" Jodie asked the woman behind the counter.

"Fan-fucking-tastic. Apparently the night-shift let some prick re-decorate the shop last night, absolutely trashed the shop," she spat, as she dried a mug.

"Really, this place looks normal?"

"That's because I had to take all the shit down. I rang my boss about all the ridiculous posters, and she started fucking giggling about yoghurt. Stupid bitch," Kerrie muttered poisonously.

"Hey!" Dick started to defend his friend, before he forcibly reminded himself that Rebecca wasn't Officer Grayson's friend.

"What, worried I'll corrupt little Lex over there with my bad language?" she mocked Dick, unknowingly making him relax, as she gave him an excuse to get involved. "Don't worry, I'm sure he'll call you worse when you leave," she said, turning round to place the mug back on the shelf. "Describes her perfectly anyway," she muttered, what she thought was quietly.

"I don't think you should talk about your boss that way," Dick threatened subtly.

Kerrie only laughed bitterly in return. "She's not fit to be in charge of this place anyway. A few days ago, I walk in here, the tables and chairs were smashed, actual fucking arrows were stuck in the wall, the place looked like a medieval battlefield; so I called the police. Officer Mahwell came;" she said to Jodie, "closely followed by Rebecca. She says it was nothing to worry about, her and Shaun just had a little too much fun with some of the historical weapons Shaun keeps from his Professor days, then sends him on his way. She wouldn't fucking tell me what really happened, so I had to find out for myself. Turns out the arrows I had to get out of the wall were the same ones Green Arrow uses. So I told Rebecca I was going to go to the papers, and then the dumb fuck tells me that'd be 'violating the affecting the custom of the shop by bringing the shop into disrepute clause of the contract' and she'd sue me for everything I made from the story. She probably just wanted to go to the papers herself," she muttered sullenly.

Dick felt a sudden rush of gratitude for Rebecca for hushing everything up. If Kerrie had gone to the papers mouthing off about how superheroes came to her coffee shop, she could have gotten everyone who worked there killed. Even the best case scenario would end with the whole area being infested with photographers, Dick being unable to patrol the area properly for months, and never being able to go back to the shop as Nightwing.

Not to mention what Batman would say.

Fortunately, Jodie's inherently friendly nature wouldn't allow her to take part in talking about a woman behind her back, and she changed the topic before Dick had to.

"So Lex, how's college life treating you?" Jodie asked pleasantly.

He scoffed. "I swapped from English to History; worst decision ever. One of the girls in my class is completely fucking stupid. She wouldn't quit talking to me in class, so I asked her out, and she actually thinks I'm going to show up for a date tonight; it's going to be hilarious."

Dick got a horrible sinking feeling in his stomach; a history major who never stopped talking sounded a little bit too like College Kid.

"That's not nice Lex," Jodie scolded, in a tone Dick had only seen her use on people she had stopped for dangerous driving. "All she did was try to be nice to you."

"Subjecting me to her stupid rants is not being nice," Lex argued petulantly. "She just parrots the opinions of some guy she says used to be a history professor in England anyway." he muttered.

"You either call her now and make an excuse for why you can't go, or you actually turn up tonight." Jodie ordered sternly. "Either way, don't you dare hurt that poor girl that way."

"Or what? Are you going to arrest me for hurting someone's feelings?" Lex mocked her.

Dick took a menacing step forward, ready to give the kid a talking to that Alfred himself would be proud of. Then he found himself forcing Lex and Jodie to the floor on instinct, when he heard glass shattering behind them.

A quick glance revealed the cause of the noise; a brick was lying on the floor, surrounded by shards of glass that formerly made up the window. Then came some shouting and laughter, clearly from young men.

"Gotta love living in Bludhaven," Jodie muttered. "But nice reflexes, rookie."

"Thanks," Dick told her, jumping to his feet. "Don't worry, I got this."

Dick vaulted through the gap where the window used to be, out onto the street, and spotted a group of teenage boys running towards an alley that led to a maze of backstreets; obviously they were hoping to lose him in the labyrinth. It was quite a good plan.

It might have even worked if they'd tried it with anyone other than Nightwing.

Unfortunately for them, thanks to his night work, Dick knew these streets like the back of his hand. Which made it laughably easy for him to know where they were going, and cut them off.

Dick tackled two of the youths, feeling childishly happy when one of them went down into a pile of trash. Although that was not that it was an unlikely thing to happen considering how filthy Bludhaven was.

"Stay down," Dick ordered the two young men, who of course did the exact opposite of what he said. The first made a fairly wise tactical retreat to hide behind the third boy; the second wasn't as smart, and tried to punch Dick in the face.

Dodging the blow with practised ease, Dick returned the favour, only with much more skill and precision. Whilst the guy was clutching his face Dick went for a pressure point, and watched him drop to the floor with satisfaction. With a surprisingly high pitched yell of indignation, the third boy jumped to his friends defence, fists swinging wildly.

'Oh well,' thought Dick, thinking back to the phrase he had had repeated to him over and over again throughout his police training. 'There's no such thing as excessive force in Bludhaven.'

Dick drew his taser and fired at the third young man, taking more than a little schadenfreude from the noise he made. Well, he had started it, and Dick had deliberately aimed for his arm. It wasn't going to do _much_ damage.

That just left the second guy, who had apparently finally grown a spine, and was now brandishing a plank of wood he had found somewhere in trash lying around at Dick. "Come on then!" he yelled, sounding more scared of the random rookie cop he was facing off against than most of the people Dick interrogated as Nightwing.

Unfortunately, Jodie chose that moment to catch up, and Dick wasn't sure his partner should see a rookie cop win a fight against three people. Which meant the next moment he took a plank to the face and gained a broken nose.

"Drop your weapon!" Jodie ordered, pointing her taser at the youth, who complied laughably quickly, obviously afraid to share the fate of his friend. Well, Dick would have laughed if he wasn't busy trying to keep his blood away from his uniform. Blasted things were impossible to dry clean.

Jodie handcuffed the three boys then gingerly applied pressure to Dick's nose. "You gonna be okay?" she asked him quietly, and received a resigned nod in return.

As they herded the three kids towards back towards the car, Jodie looked Dick up and down with some sympathy. "I tell you what, seen as though you're injured, I'll handle the paperwork," she offered generously, trying to cheer him up.

"Thanks boss," Dick replied gratefully, even though he was slightly distracted with trying to set his nose. As they slowly shepherded the young men towards the patrol car, he sighed deeply as he imagined the ridicule he was going to get from his new colleagues.

* * *

Nightwing was stood on the edge of the roof of a block of flats, glaring at the world beneath him. His face ached, he knew the bruises under his eyes dipped below his mask, and frankly everything felt wrong with the world. The wind was picking up, swirling snow around in flurries that would normally have filled Dick with childish glee, but now only reminded him how cold it was.

Perhaps worst of all was the fact that for the first time ever in recorded history nothing was going on in Bludhaven, making Dick standing out here freezing his ass off completely pointless. Dick sighed as he realised that it really _was _completely pointless. He could probably call it a night now, go home early and get some half decent sleep; if anything major happened, his alarms would trigger.

Dick gingerly picked his way across the rooftops, annoyed that the snow drifts on the roofs were impeding his progress towards his home. But as Dick noticed one window that was boarded up with cardboard instead of spilling light out onto the street, he realised he had one more errand to run before he could call it a night.

He dropped down lightly in front of the coffee shop, practically melting into the warmth that spilled out when he opened the door. But he quickly hardened again when he heard the sound of someone trying to suppress their sobs, but being unable to. It was a sound he was depressingly familiar with.

Nightwing saw Rebecca balanced on the arm of a chair that was faced away from the door, trying to comfort it's occupant. The person sat there was obviously folded in on themself, as Dick couldn't even see the back of their head. However, the sobs did sound female, specifically belonging to a young woman. He inched closer to the chair, fearing his suspicions from earlier in the day would be proved correct.

"You're here early," Rebecca stated, in an almost accusing tone.

"Quiet night," he muttered, as he took a seat next to Liz, who burrowed into Rebecca in a hug, as he tried to approach. "What's wrong?" he asked soothingly, placing a hand on Liz's back.

"She got stood up on a date," Rebecca answered for her, when it became clear after a few attempts that Liz wasn't able to speak right now.

Nightwing's blood boiled as Rebecca's brief explanation drew a fresh round of sobs from Liz.

"Hey, it's okay, please look at me," Dick said as calmly as he could manage.

College Kid shook her head against Rebecca. "Uh-uh. I'm a really ugly crier, and I wasn't exactly pretty to start off with," she managed to get out eventually.

"That's not true Liz, you're really pretty," Dick tried to cheer her up.

"Then why does nobody want to go out with me?" she asked, turning to face him. "I'm nineteen and I haven't even had my first proper kiss yet, and I'm ugly, and I've only ever been asked out as a joke."

Dick seethed as Liz's sobs overtook her again and she had to stop talking. If Lex ever found himself out after dark, Nightwing would make sure there would be hell to pay. But for now he had to cheer Liz up.

"You're not ugly, and you shouldn't let one guy ruin your confidence. He's just an asshole; you're brave, and loyal, and generally much better than him," Dick told her with conviction. "You deserve better, and _you can do better_."

Liz's sobs slowly faded to sniffles. "Really?" she asked, with heartbreaking vulnerability.

"Really. That jerk doesn't even deserve your tears," he told her firmly.

"It's not just him," Liz admitted. "My great aunt just died, and I failed a pop quiz, and the college photography club is threatening to drop me because I don't take interesting enough pictures," she said, drying her eyes on her sleeves.

"I'm really sorry about your aunt," Nightwing offered his condolences, as Rebecca gave Liz a reassuring hug. "But I know Shaun can help you with your school work, and I think I can do something about your photography club. Do you have a camera on you now?"

Liz nodded, so Dick gently took her hand and guided her out the back door into the alley. "When I say so, get ready to take the picture," he told Liz, guiding her into the middle of the alley, and pointing her camera skyward.

Nightwing grappled to the rooftops, and backed up a little, to give himself room for a running start.

"Okay, get ready." Nightwing called, as he drew his escrima sticks, activating the eerie blue glow of the shock setting, and set off running towards the edge, before leaping over to the next building.

"Did you get it?!" he asked Liz.

"Yeah," was her markedly happier reply.

Nightwing jumped down to join her, landing with a roll. "Let me see?" he asked.

Liz handed over her camera, so Dick could scrutinize the picture. He had originally had his activated escrima sticks out so that people were less likely to think the picture was a fake, but they had the added side effect of illuminating the snow around them, making the picture look much more dramatic.

"You can even put it on Facebook," he told her.

"Really?" she asked, diving in for a hug. "Thank you!" she squealed. "Hey, what happened to your face?" she asked, looking at him for the first time with eyes that weren't obscured by tears.

"I got into a fight," he told her, with a smirk in his voice.

"And what does the other guy look like?" Liz asked, with genuine curiosity.

Dick merely smiled at her before walking back inside; now he just had to do what he came in to do.

"So what happened to your window?" Dick asked, feigning ignorance perfectly.

"What happened to your nose?" Shaun cut in immediately.

"Shaun! Some kids smashed it in because the day shift were serving cops. It's not the first time it's happened, to be honest. We should probably just ban the whole force." Rebecca explained jovially.

"Because vigilantes don't cause us more trouble? We should ban those instead," Shaun muttered grumpily.

"No," Rebecca and Liz snapped at the same time, causing Nightwing to smirk.

"I can get it fixed by tomorrow for you, the Bat-family has a collateral damage fund," Dick offered, in a falsely casual tone, secretly overjoyed that he could clear his conscience.

"We can manage to get a window fixed by ourselves, thank you very much. We did survive before you, you know," Shaun ranted, mainly to himself but also to the room at large.

"What Shaun means to say is that would be very kind and helpful, thank you," Rebecca supplied for the Brit, while she passed Nightwing his usual drink, in a to-go mug. He swore that woman was psychic.

"Who do you know who'll replace a window during the night?" Liz cut in.

"I have a plan for every contingency." Nightwing answered in monotone, as he made his way out the door. Internally he was cringing into a little ball, thinking of all the broken windows in the manor when he was first learning to use bird-a-rangs.

* * *

Author's note - When I had writer's block, I went to a-really-angry-sorceress for inspiration. And frankly, everyone in the world deserves to see what the crack fic she helpfully wrote for me.

Nightwing was stood on top of high rise, brooding loudly. Nothing was happening and his face hurt, he really didn't want to still be outside in the cold. "I AM BROODING," Nightwing screamed, "BECAUSE I'M A MEMBER OF THE BATCLAN, AND THAT'S WHAT WE DO 99% OF THE TIME."

A head popped out of the window just below his feet. "Could you shut the hell up already," Jim From Downstairs demanded, a vein throbbing in his forehead, "some of us have to get some sleep before work tomorrow."

"Well some of us are working right now," Nightwing retorted, crossing his arms stubbornly. Batman always had said that pain medication made him obstinate.

"Then get the fuck off my rooftop!"

"Well, that's a new version of 'get off my lawn' if I've ever heard one."

And with that particularly witty repartee (at least in his pain-killer addled brain), Nightwing fucked off to the coffee shop.


	11. Chapter 11

Author's note: Disclaimer - I own nothing. A huge thank you to my beta's, I swear you guys wrote at least half of this chapter, and definitely the better half. sass-mistress-lucifer has also written many wonderful stories of her own, which you should really read; she's doing a great one with the Flash's rogues right now. Also thank you to everyone who has reviewed, and if you have something you'd like to happen in this story, leave a suggestion in the comments or message me, and I'll do my best to work it in.

* * *

Nightwing was trudging around the rooftops with all the energy of a single mother with newborn triplets -aka, absolutely no energy at all. He had been at Wayne Manor during the day for three long hours, and had only managed to get away by claiming he had to go prepare for his patrol. He had never been happier to throw himself into a spray of bullets -it had to be better than interacting with Batman in a bad mood.

It wasn't that he didn't love Bruce, it was just that he was so damn difficult to deal with. Unfortunately, Dick had taken a shine to Damian, which Alfred had picked up on, and now the butler had roped him into visiting every other Sunday, under the pretense of helping him with his training. Maybe he could talk the Demon Spawn into annoying Bruce so much he'd simply be too tired to yell at Dick.

Yeah. Like Bruce would ever cut him a break.

"Shit! It's Nightwing!" yelled a thug from below, surprising the vigilante and knocking him out of his brooding.

'What the hell?' Nightwing thought angrily. 'Who looks up in Bludhaven? The whole place is covered by a cloud of pollution, it's not like you can see the stars.'

As the click of a safety echoed up the rooftops, Dick started to get more than a little irritated. Jumping down onto the guy's shoulders before he could react, he used his momentum to force them both to the ground, knocking the thug unconscious with a crack of bone colliding with concrete. Dick gave a mental wince at the headache that thug was going to have in the morning. He'd been there -it wasn't fun.

Unfortunately, it turned out the thug had some friends, who were apparently a little upset their friend was now taking an enforced nap.

"Before we start, does anyone want to save themselves a trip to the ER, and just turn themselves in?" Dick asked, which was rather generous in his opinion.

They all decided to decline his offer, the ungrateful bastards.

Three broken ribs, two dislocated shoulders, and more than a few concussions later, the rest of the thugs reconsidered their stance on spending the night in a cell. Dick left them zip tied to a lamp-post, just in case their resolve wavered.

Nightwing carried on with his patrol, taking care on the roofs to avoid the black ice that had formed after the rain earlier. However, ducking out of sight of a passing police patrol about an hour into his evening knocked his balance off and, with a muffled curse, sent him skidding right over a nearly invisible patch of ice and straight off the rooftop.

He landed in a dumpster, which would've been lucky and all, if it hadn't broken his fall with a pile of rotting fruit and veg. And if the heavy lid hadn't shut on his head, leaving a bleeding (and probably bacteria infected) gash on top of his head. Being covered in healthy slush and blood stank like hell, and was one of the most disgusting sensations the former Robin had ever had to deal with.

Crawling out of the half rotted soup of suspicious plant matter and cigarette butts, he realised he'd landed in a dumpster belonging to a cheap motel. Cheap enough that the gunshots from the car park didn't strike Dick as particularly abnormal.

Looking towards the source of the noise, he half wanted to crawl back into the dumpster, because across the car-park were five idiotic teens taking increasingly wide shots at each other; three behind a small truck, and two behind a car. The trouble was that they were at opposite ends of the car-park, and as soon as he attacked one group or even attempted to pass through, the other was bound to attack him. And judging by the way their shooting at each other was going, they were bound to hit a civilian if they started aiming for him. Or just him in general, he amended, as a shot managed to ricochet down the alley and worryingly close to his ear.

Spurred on by the lack of relative safety, he climbed swiftly up the side of the motel, shaking off any clinging fruit on his way up. Quietly picking his way across the roof, he made his way towards the larger group behind the truck. Throwing a smoke pellet at the pair behind the car to buy himself a little more time, Dick jumped down and began his work.

By the time he was finished, the troublemakers were subdued, and waiting for the police, but Dick was sporting some spectacular new bruises, and a rip in his suit and matching cut where one of the ricochet bullets had hit him from behind.

That rather set the tone for the next four hours of the night.

By the time Dick slunk quietly through the backdoor to the coffee shop, he was half ready to find a mutated lizard in the main room after the way the rest of the day had turned out. (It had happened before, and no, he doesn't want to talk about it. Ever).

Dick only relaxed when he heard Liz's usual stream of chatter -reassuringly steady, and devoid of screaming- blaring out into the cold night air through an open window.

Then he froze when he realised exactly what she was saying.

"Alright, fine… But it's still a helmet, not a hood. And red is still a stupid colour for a vigilante; do you want to be seen! …And it makes your head look big." Liz muttered sulkily.

'No. It can't be him. He wouldn't come looking for me in Bludhaven,' Dick told himself weakly.

"That's it!" the unidentified assailant snapped.

Whoever was in there, it was time to face them.

**-Half an hour earlier-  
**

The bell tinkled as another person sought refuge from the dark, cold night. Shaun greeted them professionally, even if he didn't bother to turn away from the dishes he was washing to actually look the new customer in the eye. If he was honest, he was just expecting it to be Karen -weren't she and Mark supposed to be off on their second honeymoon by now? "I just switched the coffee machine off, so unless you want tea or warm milk like our resident four year old-" the grumpy Brit started to ramble.

"Hey!" Liz protested.

"-I suggest you just leave," Shaun snapped without even bothering to look at the newcomer, as he put the now clean mugs away in the cupboard above his head.

"Umm Shaun…" College Kid interjected with trepidation.

Shaun swung round, fully prepared to sass this newcomer right back out of the shop (unless it was Karen, of course -she was alright in Shaun's books) and came face to face the barrel of a gun and , behind it, Red Hood. Red Hood, the crazed, _murderous _Gotham antihero/crime lord/psychopath.

"Fine, if it means that much to you I can make you some coffee," Shaun backtracked only partially sarcastically, his hands visibly shaking until he hid them in the back pockets of his trousers.

"I'm not here for a drink-" the electronically distorted voice informed him, as Red Hood holstered his weapon almost casually and leaned unceremoniously against the counter.

"Then fuck off!" Shaun interrupted, regaining his inbuilt British done-ness with everything unnatural. "Over the last few weeks there have been mobsters, vigilantes, and an actual Lord of Chaos waltzing in and destroying the place. So unless you're here to actually buy something, I don't need an insane mercenary cluttering up my shop."

When the insane mercenary slowly and deliberately went for his gun again, Rebecca interceded on Shaun's behalf, shoving him down under the counter and out of the mercenary's view.

"Actually, it's my shop," Rebecca said quickly, sliding behind the counter and blocking Shaun from view with her body, "and I'd quite like it to remain corpse free. So, what do you want?"

"Well, I was about to ask for somebody competent to talk to, but it seems like you already sorted that." Red Hood's tone was just the wrong side of malicious to be conversational, and it sent a shiver down the spine of everyone else in the room.

"Well, unless you came here for a lovely chat, I'm guessing there's something else," Shaun commented unwisely from his hiding place/naughty corner, only for Rebecca to quickly kick him, and then smile as though nothing had happened.

"I have some questions," Red Hood declared, gloved fingers playing over the handles of the handguns holstered at his waist, "and it would be better for everyone here if you answered them honestly."

"Can I leave then? Because I know nothing and my mum says I shouldn't talk to strangers," College Kid interrupted, bracing herself against her chair as though she was going to get to her feet.

"Take one step towards the door and I'll put a bullet in you."

"Hmmm, no you won't. I've got a cousin in Gotham and she says you don't kill civilians," she said decisively, getting up to take her leave.

"Civilians, usually not," Red Hood agreed. "But you've posted a few too many pictures of Nightwing recently to claim you're not involved with him in some capacity."

"I only kept one of them up," College Kid muttered sullenly as she sank back into her chair, petulantly crossing her arms across her chest.

"Doesn't matter kid," Red hood said, taking a step towards her, "damage is done. Now, when will Nightwing be here?"

"I don't know," Liz told him honestly, shrinking down into her arm chair.

"Look kid…" Jason started, moving towards her with a threatening prowl in his walk.

"She's telling the truth," Shaun snapped, as he pulled himself up by the counter to glare across the room at the Gothamite. "He just comes in sometimes, he didn't exactly give us his schedule. He doesn't even show up every night," Shaun's voice dropped into a very irritated grumble, "just when he wants to trash the place, apparently."

"Well if he doesn't come soon, I'm going to have to cause some trouble to draw him out, so you better hope he shows," Jason threatened. "In the meantime, you'd better make yourself comfortable," he finished, sitting down in the nearest booth and laying his largest gun conspicuously across the table.

He wasn't expecting his order to be taken quite so literally when Shaun and Rebecca sat on the counter in sync and started muttering to each other or when Liz crossed the room, sat down next to him, and began to use him as a pillow.

"So, if you're a mercenary, how much does it cost to hire you?" Liz asked.

"More than you can afford," Red Hood told her, pushing her off him. He was a mass murderer, not a goddamn pillow.

"No, not like to actually kill someone. Just to break into someone's house and scare them."

"Seriously girl, I'm out of your league," he said, giving her a playful shove; playful in that it didn't seriously hurt her or result in her immediate death.

"Hey! Don't flirt with her," Shaun threatened the heavily armed man.

Despite the helmet, the disdainful look Red Hood threw at Shaun was clear as day. He settled for placing an arm around Liz's shoulders, silently daring Shaun to pick a fight with him. "Sorry, is it _this _beautiful lady you don't want me to flirt with?"

"Can I use my beautiful feminine wiles to get you to take my job?" College Kid asked Red Hood quietly, as Shaun took an aborted step towards them, visibly grinding his teeth.

"Sure," Jason said, but he wasn't looking at Liz. He stared at Shaun, silently egging him on.

"I will ground you," Shaun threatened, stuck between a mixture of abject terror and fatherly protectiveness.

"Me, or him?"

"You're not her father, Shaun -it's not like you can send her to her room," Rebecca explained with an air of exhaustion from the counter.

"How about we both go to your room for a while?" Jason whispered loudly in Liz's ear, innuendo lacing his tone.

Liz considered him with a look of pure mischief. "Only if you're willing to take off your socks… and the helmet."

"Red _Hood_," he reminded her forcefully.

"That's a helmet, not a hood," Liz argued petulantly. "And it makes your head look big," she added, sticking her tongue out.

"Kid, just because you're fun to mess around with doesn't mean I won't put a bullet in you," Jason said, his Lazarus pit fuelled rage flaring up, pinning her against the table in one quick move she didn't have time to register.

"Whoa, okay," she mumbled. "…But is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"

"That's terrible, kid," he grumbled, but let go of her arm all the same. "Now go sit quietly with the Brit before you make me do something you'll regret."

"Now who's doing clichés?" Liz complained, mainly to herself, as Shaun gingerly approached the table, grabbed the young woman and dragged her back to the counter.

Rebecca gently guided Liz to sit between her and Shaun on the counter, never taking her eyes off the Red Hood. "So, what exactly are you planning to do if Nightwing shows up?" she asked, with a creditable attempt at acting nonchalant.

"Don't worry lady, we'll take it outside," he smirked, deliberately not giving a straight answer.

"You better, you cretin," Shaun snapped, "because I'm introducing a break it, bought it policy."

"What if it's an accident?" Rebecca asked.

"Or what if it wasn't my fault? Because when I sat on that chair and it collapsed, that was clearly your guys fault for having sub-standard chairs, because otherwise you're saying it was my fault it broke, because I was too heavy. And are you really going to call me fat, Shaun?" College Kid asked, ending with a subtle implied threat.

The mercenary looked at the group with his head cocked, as if unsure whether it was them or him that were failing to grasp the situation.

"That was your fault, you were rocking on it. Even after it started creaking," Shaun retorted.

"Rebecca, Shaun's being mean to me!" College Kid whined.

Rebecca didn't dignify them with an answer.

"C'mon," Liz whined. "Why won't you just tell Shaun he's wrong? I know you think so," she said, poking Rebecca in the arm repeatedly.

Jason cleared his throat loudly, to remind the three people that they were, in fact, still in a hostage situation.

"Oh sorry, did you want a drink?" Rebecca asked, leaning backwards to flip a switch on one of the machines behind the counter.

A few minutes later and she presented the mercenary with a mug full of frothy warm milk, then returned to her spot with the other two. Jason didn't say a word, and merely stared at her.

"Well that's clearly not going to work," College Kid scolded, as she walked over to her rucksack, and took out a small bundle of straws, and handed a pastel pink one to _the_ Red Hood. "Well, if he had to lift up his visor fully to drink it, he'd have to kill us all after," she explained.

"Why do you even have about twenty straws in your bag?" Shaun asked her, his tone clearly stating that he wasn't sure he wanted to know, but felt compelled to ask anyway.

"Because I bought a burger that was extremely overpriced for what I received, and I had no choice but to make my money back by hoarding free straws," Liz rambled quickly. "We don't all have jobs that pay money," she muttered sulkily, taking out her phone, and sinking back down into her preferred chair.

Only for the Red Hood to snatch it away from her almost immediately.

"Hey!"

"You are in a hostage situation," he explained deliberately slowly, as if speaking to a particularly stupid child. "You can't use your phone."

"But I want to play Candy Crush," Liz pouted.

"No," Red Hood told her sharply. "I never get problems like this in Gotham," he muttered under his breath.

Liz studied him carefully then delved back into her bag, searching carelessly, and finally pulling out a bag of mini marshmallows. Then she dropped three of them into the warm milk he hadn't touched, and stared at him expectantly. "Now can I have my phone back?"

Silence, and another two marshmallows.

_The_ Red Hood sighed and fished around in one of his pockets. Then he placed a small magnetic disk on the back of Liz's phone. "There. Your phone can't connect to anything now. Good luck, kid."

"Thanks," she said sincerely, choosing to ignore all of his implied menace in favour of trying to crack the next level on Candy Crush with her tongue peeking out of one side of her mouth.

Five minutes later and he took it away from her again after she tried to take a selfie with him. Jason ignored her pleas that she'd use a good filter.

Unfortunately, that meant she resumed talking to him for entertainment.

"So, if you live in Gotham, and you kill people, why haven't you killed the Joker yet?"

"Girl," Jason ground out, instinctively going for one of his knives. Then he forcibly stopped himself. She wasn't a Gothamite, she didn't know about his history with the Clown Prince of Crime. "It's on my to-do list."

"That's good. I mean no-one likes him, so it might not even count as a crime," she chatted cheerfully, blissfully unaware of what a dangerous topic she was on. "But back to the helmet, how can you even see out of it? Or do you just have to shoot blindly and hope you don't miss?"

"Look, kid, Lizzie, whatever your name is. Shut up," Jason told her tiredly.

"It's Liz, but alright, fine… But it's still a helmet not a hood. And red is still a stupid colour for a vigilante; do you want to be seen! …And it makes your head look big," Liz muttered sulkily.

"That's it!"

* * *

Whoever was in there, it was time to face them.

Dick could only hope that he wouldn't have to fight his little brother.

"Stop!" Nightwing ordered, his heart sinking as his fears of facing the renegade Robin were confirmed. "Get away from her," he demanded, drawing a wingding from one of his hidden pockets.

"Really, golden-boy? But we've really gotten to know each other while we were waiting for you. I feel so close to her now, I don't want to let go" Jason quipped, as he dragged Liz closer, an arm across her throat keeping her secure, while he took aim at Nightwing with one of his guns.

"What do you want?" Dick asked, trying not to let his sadness colour his voice. "Whatever it is, you don't need to hurt these people. Let them go."

"But what if I want to hurt _you_? Judging by this little lady's camera roll," Jason said, running his gun gently over Liz's hair, causing her to shiver a little, "you're quite pally with these people. I think a bullet in each of their skulls would be a very good way to get to you."

"I don't actually," Shaun interjected. "I'm actually feeling like that's quite a bad idea. Anyone else?"

Nightwing was silently willing Shaun to shut up and stop drawing attention to himself so desperately that he nearly gave himself eye strain. Jason had been, well, _wrong_, ever since he came out of the Lazarus pit, and although he'd been a little better recently, Dick hoped his brother wouldn't hurt an innocent civilian. He knew better than to take any chances though, in case the Pit rage was in control.

"You're completely right, he'd probably thank me for getting rid of an annoying prick like you. Your girlfriend on the other hand…"

Dick threw his wingding at the same time as Jason began to move his aim towards Rebecca, and Shaun began to protest that she wasn't his girlfriend. It knocked the gun out of his hand, but he couldn't let it detonate when Jason was still holding Liz so close. Jason might have been alright, in his armoured Red Hood outfit, but College Kid was woefully vulnerable to pretty much everything.

"Thank God, pretty boy, I was beginning to think you'd gone soft," Jason taunted, thankfully shoving Liz towards Shaun and Rebecca, sacrificing his human shield so he could move more easily in the fight.

Nightwing tried to straighten himself up at that comment, because showing weakness clearly wasn't an option here. This whole situation would have been a hell of a lot easier if he hadn't already been fighting for the last five hours, while Jason had been putting his feet up, terrorising Dick's friends. He didn't exactly have the upper hand here.

Dick tensed as he and Jason began circling each other -he didn't want to hurt his brother, but Dick was exhausted and he needed to end this as quickly as possible.

Which meant he was going to have to attack his brother first. Something Dick had told himself he'd never do.

"You should have stayed in Gotham, Hood," Dick told his brother, drawing his escrima sticks, running through a small set pattern just to test the waters.

Jason reacted badly, lashing out with a strike that was meant to do a lot worse than incapacitate Dick.

Nightwing tried not to let Jason see him flinch at his use of attempted lethal force. Dick would never get used to Jason trying to kill him, he couldn't reconcile the murderer in front of him with the eager to please teenager that had been so determined to fill Dick's pixie boots.

Jason definitely saw him stumble though, a small wound from earlier and Dick's fatigue affected his balance for a moment. The former Robin snorted at his brother's small mistake. "Something wrong, pretty bird? You don't seem able to fly anymore. Flitting through my Crime Alley territory today must have worn you out," he mocked. "Want me to put you out of your misery?" he asked, drawing another gun from the opposite holster.

Nightwing reacted instinctively, throwing another wingding at Jason.

Just as a dizzy spell overtook him.

Dick watched in horror as it Jason was able to dodge the projectile easily, and embedded itself into the wall next to where Liz, Shaun, and Rebecca were huddled.

The two adults jumped off the counter, and hid under it by sheer instinct, forcing Liz down with them. Nightwing nearly fainted in relief when all the explosion did was take a small chunk out of the wall.

Then again, it might have been a blow to the head that was just catching up to him.

"What the hell, Goldie, I'm one who offs people, remember?" Jason reprimanded his brother, trying to pass it off as mocking him, despite the fact that Dick had seen him check over everyone after the blast.

"That's it! You, you're his family," Rebecca pointed to Red Hood, as she stood up from where she'd been dragged down and dusted herself off. "Take him home!"

"Excuse me?" Jason asked in a dangerous tone, daring the unarmed civilian to demand something of him again.

"Please. You wasted most of your night to ambush him, spent the rest of it making fun of him whilst trying to hit him, then yelled at him for making a mistake; you're either his father, his brother, or his wife. Now take him home!" she ordered.

"That's a big risk to take with Nightwing's safety. How confident are you that we're family?" Jason asked, twisting the word like he was describing a horrible disease. Then he laughed. "What the hell, I did tell you we'd take it outside," he conceded, walking out, trusting Dick to follow him out of a misplaced duty to stop him getting into any more trouble.

They left through the back door, and took to the rooftops in unison, the instinct to remain unseen deeply ingrained in both of them.

"I didn't- Look, the trains still aren't running after Ivy covered all the tracks in vines, and I needed to get away from the Manor. I was just trying to get home, not trespass on your territory; m'sorry Jaybird," Dick mumbled and slurred, giving into his concussion a little more, now that it was just the two of them.

"Yeah, well, I was worried the old man was sending people to monitor me again. Had to knock it on the head. Kinda wanted to do it literally," Jason said, a little wistfully as he slipped a supportive arm around Dick's shoulders.

"And instead you're walking me home," Dick smiled into the night.

"Yeah well, should've known you wouldn't start a fight with your family this close to Christmas; you're too ridiculously idealistic," Jason muttered gruffly as they set off over the roofs together.

"Are you admitting we're family, Jaybird?" Dick asked with a cheeky grin. "Oh, and you're still invited to Christmas dinner by the way. Alfred promises to make Bruce be on his best behaviour."

"Really, Dickie-Bird?" Jason asked him incredulously. "I came here ready to put a bullet in you for stepping foot in my territory, and you're inviting me to Christmas lunch with the whole unhappy family?"

"That doesn't mean you can't invade our territory. And c'mon, Bruce knocked up _Talia_ _al Ghul_; aren't you a little bit curious to see the result? 'Tis the season to view Demon Brats and all that."

"I said I didn't want to waste any more time on our excuse of a family. That ain't gonna change just because the church says a magical baby was born two thousand years ago, so we all have to play house for a day," Jason raged, completely unimpeded by the fact they were both hurtling themselves over the roofs.

"Okay, little bro, I get you. There was a time when you wouldn't have got me back to the Manor if you'd involved the whole damn JLA in a mission to drag me back there kicking and screaming. Although you know Alfred's going to get you there somehow, right?" Dick teased his brother, as they came up on his apartment. "Anyway this is me; wanna' come in?"

Jason gave a small huff. "Maybe I'll come back when you're well enough to give me a proper fight," he told his brother before taking off into the night without a backwards glance.

"Bye little-wing," Dick whispered to himself, turning round to disable his security systems, before crawling into his house through the window.

Dick smiled a little to himself as he put his Nightwing gear away, and changed into the Batman pyjamas that had been a joke gift from Babs. Jason had pulled himself out of his rage without hurting anyone. He'd get his happy little brother back one day, he was sure of it.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Author's note: Sorry, uploaded the wrong version first time round. I apologise for the wait, the first draft got rejected in a pretty crushing way, and I got a bit nervous. Also I've been working on something pretty big to do with this, which I hope to tell you about in a few chapter's time. A massive thank you to my beta's, especially a-really-angry-sorceress, go read her stories.

* * *

'This is it,' Dick had told himself. 'I'm putting them in danger; I can't go back to that coffee shop.'

And he had truly believed himself, had found his caffeine fuel at other locations night after night after night, until he came home from his day job and found Liz's phone on his kitchen table with a post it note stuck to it.

\- Please return this for me, I can't face those people again. -

Dick sighed at his brother's communication skills, but added finding Liz's address to his mental to-do list so he could mail it back to her.

But when he pulled the note off the phone, he saw what was written on the other side.

\- And I mean in person, Dick, those people are pretty damn loyal to you, don't do anything B would. -

Dick felt a little exasperated at first; considering Jason had taken a job in Europe over Christmas just to avoid his family; he didn't get to tell anyone else they were being too distant. But a few hours later, Dick was making himself a bowl of cereal, and glanced the note out of the corner of his eye. He grudgingly admitted that his brother may have been right, and conceded that he should at least hand Liz her phone back personally, and say goodbye properly. Didn't want to wind up creating supervillains for himself, after all.

* * *

"Yay! Thank you!" Liz shouted, the instant Dick had fished her phone out of his pocket. She cradled it whilst rushing to her bag, grabbing a charger, and ripping a lamp out of the nearest plug socket so she could plug it in. It reminded Dick strongly of a reunion between a distressed mother and her baby that he had rescued from a fire a few weeks previously.

"You should thank Red Hood, he's not normally bothered about collateral damage."

"My phone's not broken though, he was just stealing it. And it's not like he left me his contact details, how am I supposed to thank him; can I just send smoke signals from here, or do I have to stand on a roof in Gotham and shout?"

Dick merely shook his head with a smile, and went to collect his coffee from Shaun.

"Where's Rebecca?" Dick asked, having noticed her absence for the first time.

"She went to file a police report," Shaun told him, almost cordially. "She said she's noticed a guy loitering around; staring at the shop."

"What guy?" Nightwing asked, growing more concerned.

"She said he was just some creepy old grey haired bloke. She's probably just being paranoid again," Shaun told him dismissively.

"How come you don't have a cape?" College Kid asked from across the room, abruptly changing the topic. "Nearly all heroes do."

"No they don't," Nightwing replied after an involuntary flinch. "Look at the Flashes and the Arrow Clan."

"But the Arrow Clan can't because they need to be able to draw their bows without interference, and it would cause the Flashes too many problems with air resistance," Karen called from her corner of the room. She appeared to be busy fashioning a lopsided top hat from a pile of napkins, and her sweatband was slipping down over her eyes, but her reasoning was completely sound.

"Yeah, and, like, everyone else in the Bat-family has a cape, so why don't you?" Liz badgered Nightwing.

"I outgrew it," Dick told her with a deadly straight face.

Liz grabbed a table cloth from the booth beside her, and tied it around Nightwing's neck. He let her do it, with the tired resignation that comes with having three younger brothers. "You can still pull it off," Liz told him benevolently.

"How about I rip it off instead?" a smooth voice threatened, seemingly from everywhere in the room at once. It came from the shadows, the back room, the coffee cups and the wilting plant in the hideous novelty plant pot stuffed in one corner, a velvet purr that dripped with lethal promise.

The civilians in the room all jumped, and looked around nervously for the source of the voice. Dick sighed and downed his drink, wishing for something stronger, whilst trying to activate his distress signal as discreetly as possible.

"I thought I made my thoughts on capes quite clear," the shadows purred.

"It's not even-" Dick tried to protest, but had to stop when he found himself dangling three feet off the floor by his improvised cape. It tightened around his neck, greatly restricting his air supply in a manner that gave him flashbacks of the bad old times.

"I'd hate for you to get back into bad habits," Deathstroke threatened, forced to step into the light in order to reach Nightwing. "It took long enough to train you out of that one in particular."

Dick fiddled with Liz's knot until he was released and dropped to the floor in a catlike crouch. He rolled away from his adversary, trying to keep himself between his friends and the mercenary, as the man stepped back into the shadows. 'Just like old times,' Dick thought grimly.

"Why are you here, Slade?" he barked.

"You were trained by the world's greatest detective; try and think why a man might be in a coffee shop."

"Oh of course, the world renowned assassin wanted a latte," Dick scoffed, slotting wingdings between the fingers of both his hands, ready to throw at the slightest provocation.

"Contrary to your earliest theory, I don't strengthen myself with human blood. I actually prefer espressos."

"You still- what are you wearing?" Dick asked incredulously.

"Clothes, Robin; did you think I lived in my uniform?" Slade mocked him.

"It's Nightwing," Dick snapped back, feeling a little foolish that Deathstroke's guess was pretty close to the mark. In all their time as enemies, Dick had never seen Slade out of his black and orange uniform -it was wrong footing him, and the assassin knew it.

"Yes, I heard you wanted a change after you and Batman fell out. I was actually planning on-"

"Why is Rebecca tied up in the back room?" Shaun interrupted, in the tone of a parent who knows exactly what their child has done, but wants to hear it from them before they get angry.

"Your co-worker was heading to the police station. I think we can all agree that their presence is not necessary."

Dick understood the implied threat, and agreed that several police officers going up against Deathstroke was not a good idea. Even if the man wasn't in his armour, Dick knew the man would still be heavily armed. That fight would only go one way.

"What do you think you are doing?" Deathstroke asked, as Shaun pulled a large knife out of a drawer. Dick could hear him smirking.

"I'm going to take on the assassin with a bread knife," Shaun retorted in the most sarcastic tone of voice ever utilised by mankind as he crossed into the back room, returning a minute later accompanied by Rebecca, angrily pulling packing tape off herself. Karen helpfully pulled the last stray bits off her, while Shaun threw the knife in the sink. Rebecca glared at Slade, opening her mouth to say something that Dick wished she wouldn't.

"No!" College Kid screamed, causing everyone in the room to whip round to face her, in a perfectly timed distraction. "I have 32 missed calls from my mother," she explained, when she realised everyone was staring. "Euw," she squealed excitedly when she glanced back down at her phone, then pressed something with a delighted jab.

Shortly afterwards there was the muffled buzzing sound of a phone vibrating, coming from the shadows concealing Nightwing's oldest nemesis. Dick looked between Liz and Deathstroke, praying that this was just a miraculous coincidence.

"Cool," College Kid grinned. "So would you take a job to scare a boy I don't like?"

"Where did you get that number?" Deathstroke asked, with a low threatening tone.

Liz shrugged nonchalantly, oblivious to the danger. "His brother did it," she said, nodding at Nightwing. "Apparently Red Hood's too important to take my job offer."

"And you think I am not?"

"Meh," College Kid shrugged, "I just wanted to know if he'd really given me your number."

"We're leaving," Dick told the disbelieving mercenary, circling round him towards the door. Through all the years Dick had spent fighting Deathstroke he had never killed someone he wasn't paid to, or who wasn't legitimately threatening him or his mission. However, he wasn't a patient man, and Dick knew the man well enough to know that if offered the chance to remove himself from the presence of someone he deemed beneath him, he would take it.

Unless he was in a vindictive mood, and looking for someone to hurt.

"I thought we already discussed that I came here for a drink," Slade replied, steeling himself against being moved by Nightwing. Not that Dick really had a chance of moving the super soldier in the first place, but it did give him a warm feeling in his chest that the world's greatest mercenary considered him a credible threat.

Dick snagged Liz's drink -hot chocolate buried under mounds of whipped cream that gave Dick flashbacks to Babs's last Instagram spree- and handed it to the mercenary. "Sorted."

Eventually Slade gave Nightwing a withering look and walked out the door. Dick followed him, after giving a stern warning to Liz to delete Slade's number. He took to the roofs immediately, trusting Slade to follow.

A few leaps on the fire escape, and Deathstroke reached him. He took a sip of his stolen drink, and raised an eyebrow, prompting Dick to start.

"I'm never going to be your apprentice, Slade," Dick warned the man, before the conversation had chance to go in the wrong direction.

"But you're already stealing for me again," Slade said sarcastically, raising his drink. "Can't you hear the life of crime calling to you?"

"Just because I had a disagreement with Batman and moved out of Gotham doesn't mean-"

"I know."

"What?"

"You're far too stubborn for me to waste my time trying to train as an apprentice. I know that now," Slade said dismissively.

"What? Worried I'll turn you prematurely grey?" Dick joked.

"I am not above throwing you off this roof," Slade threatened. "But as I was going to say earlier, I was planning on heading to Gotham to have a few words with Batman."

"Stay away from him!" Nightwing yelled, his temper flaring instantly.

"Calm down," Slade told him, as though he was addressing a hyperactive child. "I am a mercenary, and no-one is paying me to kill him."

"But someone is paying you to have a heart to heart with him?" Dick asked scathingly.

"Whilst you were my apprentice I grew quite- fond of you Nightwing; suffice to say I do not want to see you killed because you could not rely on your usual network of support. You are too valuable to die because of a petty squabble," Slade confessed, while looking resolutely at the skyline, and not at Dick.

"Are you… trying to parent me?" Dick asked incredulously. "You can't do that. You kidnapped me and tried to kill my friends, you don't get to-"

"Robin, you're being petty; our relationship was always more complicated than that," Deathstroke told him sincerely. "Now how much longer do we have before someone responds to your distress signal? This response time is already unacceptable."

Dick ground his teeth while Deathstroke rolled his eye. "I would prefer it if you did not alert the Bat to my presence in Gotham, Robin," he told Dick quietly, before throwing a smoke bomb, and disappearing.

"It's Nightwing!" Dick called over the side of the building. He drew back quickly when a projectile was launched at him, despite it falling short of the roof. Then he noticed it was a plastic cup from the coffee shop.

"You owe me a hot chocolate!" College Kid yelled sulkily from the pavement.

"Put it on my tab!" Dick called, before taking off in what he hoped was the opposite direction to Deathstroke. He should probably warn Bruce to send someone to intercept Deathstroke; if only because the assassin telling Bruce to let Dick grow up and have his space would result in him being back at the Manor under house arrest within the hour.


	13. Chapter 13

Author's note: Disclaimer - I own nothing. I want to say a massive thank you to a-really-angry-sorceress who did a huge amount of work on this one. Sorry about the wait, all kinds of grown up nonsense kept getting in the way of writing. And Floyd Lawton was written with the CW version in mind, as that version of him is my absolute fave.

Nightwing was on the move. Deadshot was in his city, had already killed two Kord Industries researchers, but no-one was talking. That meant Dick had had to resort to checking vantage points throughout the city, on the off-chance the sniper was holed up there.

Shockingly, it wasn't going well.

Dick had been struggling with this case. The two researchers that Lawton had killed had been involved in some… unsavoury extracurricular activities involving live human test subjects. At least a few of them were still live; not that they necessarily wanted to be. However, the pair had been working on people who, Dick hated to admit, wouldn't be missed, and Dick couldn't work out who had payed the assassin for the hit.

Then there had been a kill he suspected was Lawton's, but was unconfirmed. The shot wasn't particularly difficult - there were any number of people that could have done it, and there were no witnesses - but the bullet dug out of the victim matched the type that Lawton had used for his sidearm since Dick's days as Robin.

This one was particularly vexing. Dick had viewed the corpse at the BCPD as Officer Grayson; the man was a defense lawyer who specialised in making sure guilty people never saw justice. He was renowned for his 'neutral' stance to the people he represented; he accepted any client who was willing to pay, and in return no one moved against him. There shouldn't have been anyone who wanted to pay Deadshot to cross the man off.

Dick didn't understand what Lawton was doing. Then out of the corner of his eye, Dick saw movement on top of the Ace Chemicals building. It looked like he was in luck.

Nightwing ran off the edge of his building, and allowed himself a few blissful seconds of freefall before he fired his grapple. When the line went taut he focused again, pushing all other thoughts out of his head as he landed on a rooftop a few buildings away from Ace Chemicals.

Nightwing observed the situation silently, assessing carefully before he attacked. Lawton was leaning against a billboard, apparently enjoying the scenery. He had two guns on him that Dick could see, and a case he assumed held a sniper rifle. However, Deadshot seemed relaxed at the moment, and not an imminent threat to anyone.

He shouldn't have let his guard down.

Dick picked his way carefully across the remaining distance, trying to make as little noise as possible. Then Lawton's phone rang, echoing loudly in the night, making Dick flinch a little.

There was a short pause as whoever was in the other end started the conversation, then Lawton sighed loudly.

"You got an address?"

Another short pause.

"My daughter's her age now," Lawton said, his voice taking a sharper edge. "And I will take every opportunity to put the fear of God into boys who need to learn a little respect. Give me the address."

Dick felt a little conflicted inside; if this call was something to do with the assassin's estranged family… Well, Dick appreciated when people made no attempt to learn about his civilian identity, and he knew to return the favour whenever it wasn't relevant to a case. Dick knew that Lawton's thick voice when he talked about his daughter was something he didn't have a right to overhear.

"Good. I'm close. I'll deal with him quickly," Lawton said, before hanging up.

When he put his phone away, Dick decided that was his cue. As he jumped towards Deadshot, the older man turned, and saw him coming. Lawton leapt back from Dick, putting his hands up in a soothing gesture.

"Not here to kill anyone, Nightwing."

"So you brought the guns because they match your outfit?" Nightwing mocked, slipping out a wingding.

"Second amendment I'm afraid. You couldn't even get me on a concealed carry," he said, waving his gun to illustrate his point.

"Great. It's just the outstanding warrants I'm bringing you in for."

"Sorry," he drawled. "Waller's internship took care of that."

"Guess it's the Kord Industries murders I'm bringing you in for then."

Lawton gasped dramatically. "How could you accuse me of that?" he asked, feigning shock. "You've got no proof. I'm innocent," he said, dropping his tone back to normal.

Nightwing slapped the wingding onto Lawton's armour, and waited a moment for it to go off. When Lawton was off balance from the blast, Dick struck, drawing an escrima stick, and striking him across the head. Deadshot dropped to one knee, stunned by the blow. Dick took the opportunity to kick the gun he was holding out of his hands. It slid off the rooftop, and Deadshot tensed, getting visibly angry for the first time. Then he got up slowly, making no attempt to retaliate.

"No matter," he said, holding Nightwing's gaze. "I didn't need it."

Dick paused for a moment, without dropping his guarded stance. It was very rare anyone wouldn't fight back if tempted like that, let alone one of the world's best snipers.

"Do you know what day Monday was?" Lawton asked quickly, in the brief lull. Apparently he was not expecting Dick to answer. "It was my daughter's birthday. Every year I do a week of… not being myself, for her sake."

"Oh right, so killing people you deem to be not worthy of life gives you a clean slate for all your other murders for the year?" Dick asked sarcastically.

"As we've discussed Nightwing, that wasn't me," Lawton said, unfortunately remembering to stick to his story. "But I do some good in the world. That's the best I can hope for with the path I'm on."

"Spare me the pity party, Deadshot. I don't think 'putting the fear of God'," he quoted the man, "into someone counts as doing some good in the world."

"Isn't that the Big Bad Bats job description?" Lawton asked with a smirk. "And I was just planning on having a little chat with a young gentleman who needs to watch his manners; only reason I was asked to Bludhaven, scouts honour."

"Not going to happen," Dick warned, lowering his centre of gravity slightly, preparing for the first punch.

"Look, I made a promise, and getting arrested right now would break that promise. So sorry," Deadshot finished suddenly, hitting Dick on the side if his head with the butt of his rifle case.

Dick's vision blacked out for a few seconds; that had hurt. When he tried to orientate himself, a flash grenade soon put an end to his attempt. Dick could hear a door slamming, and stumbled towards the source of the noise, impeded by the bright spots clouding his vision.

Nightwing reached the door to the stairwell in the building. Unfortunately it was the type of fire door that only opened from the inside; Lawton must have wedged it open when he came up to the roof. Dick hammered on the door, and attempted to kick it down, cursing Deadshot out under his breath. After over a minute of fruitless attempts, the door was swung open from the inside.

Nightwing was on the man immediately, ready to attack Lawton. However, he had to drag himself to a stop when he found himself face to face with an incredulous looking security guard. He had a lighter in his hand, and was apparently sneaking up to the roof for a cigarette break.

"Can I help you?" the man asked.

Dick made to push past the man, but then thought for a moment. If the guard had just come up that narrow stairwell, he should have passed Deadshot, and would not be this calm, or this confused at having a vigilante in his building. That meant Lawton had played him, when he knew Dick couldn't see. He must have gotten off the roof another way, and Dick had already given him a two minute head start.

Dick ran to the edge of the roof with a fire escape, and glanced down. Lawton was long gone, and Dick had no idea where to look for him. He didn't have any leads to go on, except that his financier had only asked him to talk to a boy and scare him straight.

Dick felt his mouth tighten as a terrible idea popped into his head. He hoped he wasn't right, but...

* * *

He ran towards his target, refusing to slow down despite his lungs burning like he was breathing in acid. He had to get this questioning over quickly, before it was too late.

"Liz!" Dick called as he crossed over the coffee shops threshold, relieved to find her in her usual chair. "Can I have a word please?"

"What happened to your head?" Rebecca asked, her eyes lingering on the wound Lawton had given him, which was still bleeding gently.

"Deadshot," Dick answered simply. "Do you know why he was here?" he asked Liz, turning to face her, so he could study her reactions.

"To shoot someone?" Liz asked, with the innocence of a child. Specifically one who was standing next to a scribble on the wall, with a crayon in their hand. Dick wasn't in the mood to play along.

"This is serious. You brought a murderer to my city, and now people are dead!" Nightwing shouted, hoping to scare Liz a little; she wasn't taking this seriously enough. "I need you to tell me where you sent him."

"I didn't send him anywhere," Liz argued petulantly. "I never even talked to the guy," she sulked, poking her drink viciously with her straw while pouting.

"This isn't something you can sulk at until it goes away. Three people are dead, and there will be repercussions for this," Dick threatened. "Just don't make it four," he added softly.

"It's not my fault," College Kid protested. "I wasn't the one who asked him to come. I couldn't even get in contact with him. It was your brother who promised to make everything better. Will there be repercussions for him?" she challenged him.

"Why would he-" Dick started to ask.

Shaun threw his hands up in the air, and interrupted him. 'How on earth do you manage to collect this many surrogate fathers? Is it a new metahuman ability previously unknown to man?" he said, jabbing an accusing finger at Liz.

Liz shrugged. "I just don't alienate everyone I talk to," she muttered sullenly, causing Shaun to huff, and pretend to be busy with the coffee machine.

Dick ground his teeth. If the Red Hood had been the one Lawton was on the phone to, that didn't bode well for his long term health. Jason had upped his campaign on putting super-villains down permanently after Two Face killed twenty two people on a whim. It was likely Lawton had just walked into a trap laid by his brother.

"Just tell me where that boy lives," Dick said, now desperate to get their first.

"Why would I know?" College Kid asked, affronted. "What kind of girl do you think I am?"

Rebecca came to her star customer's defense at that. "Why don't you ask Red Hood for it?" she suggested curtly, going to stand behind Liz's chair, holding onto the arms, draping herself over the young woman in a protective manner that put Dick in mind of a mama bear.

Nightwing could see he wasn't going to get much more out of them, and took Rebecca's advice, seen as though it wasn't such a terrible idea.

He put a call through to Jason. He was worried it was going to be draining and pointless, but he felt much worse when the call didn't go through. Dick started to feel his stress levels rising, and called Oracle instead. She answered straight away, which Dick was eternally grateful for, even if it was no less than he expected of Babs.

"Nightwing, what's up?"

"I need an address, student at Blüdhaven city college, Lex-" he turned to Liz realising he didn't actually know his last name. When Liz stuck her bottom lip out, sulkily refusing to answer, Dick upped his stern look into a low level Bat glare.

"Alexander Parks," she admitted quietly.

"Alexander Parks," Nightwing repeated into the phone, already on his way out of the coffee shop. He took to the rooftops to wait while Babs found him the address. With a full name to work with, she'd found it before he found his footing.

"Okay, looks like he's in student accommodation, The Archer building, room 197. It's roughly 0.4km southeast of your position. Need anything else?"

"No. Thanks, Oracle," Dick said sincerely. He knew she'd want to know what exactly was going on later, but as long as Jason didn't actually drop a body, he could be vague with the details.

Nightwing raced over the roofs, not carefully picking his route but rather relying more heavily on his grapple gun than he normally would. Dick felt the strain on the muscles in his arm, and worried he still wasn't going fast enough. He couldn't let his brother murder someone in his city, even if it was Deadshot.

Dick swore when he realised there was a park between him and the building. He looked round for the fire escape, and noticed a shadowy figure on the roof of the building to his right. Turning to look, he saw Red Hood in a sniping position, lying on the roof, looking down the scope. Dick threw a snapflash at his brother, hoping to distract him before he got a shot off. He ran the rest of the distance between them while Jason reflexively took cover.

"Don't do this," Dick begged, as soon as he was able to talk quietly enough to not draw attention, but still be heard by his brother.

"Don't get in my way!"

Dick moved closer to Jason, putting himself between the gun and the building full of innocent students, and one not so innocent gun for hire. "I know you think this is the right thing to do, and Lawton deserves it, but you're the only one here tonight who's planning a murder."

"Yeah, tonight. And what about tomorrow, when Deadshot kills some innocent person for cash?" Jason snarled. "This is the right way, because it's the only one that works."

"But what about tonight, when you kill a father trying to do a good deed, in front of a totally unsuspecting teenager? Don't do this."

"One good deed doesn't undo-" Jason shouted, furious at what he thought Dick meant; the older boy cut him off before it made him do anything rash.

"No, it doesn't," he agreed. "But one bad deed can undo all the good ones. Right now, he's the one in the helping someone, and you're the assassin. Don't undo all the progress you've made, because of one bad day," he pleaded.

"What progress?" Jason asked bitterly. "Being barely tolerated by Bruce?"

"You know he loves you, and normal people are starting to too," Dick pointed out. "Don't go back to being the lunatic vigilante who'll open fire with civilians standing there."

"No one normal would love me," Jason said, looking away.

"Say that to the girl in the coffee shop, who you told you'd fix her problems, who would be devastated if she realised you'd killed a man using her as a prop. You can still keep your promise. No one has to die."

Jason remained perfectly still for a long, tense moment. Then he shook his head in mock disbelief. "Can't believe you turn up fifteen minutes late to vigilante justice with Starbucks," he said.

Dick took the olive branch his joke offered. "Where did you learn a meme? Have you been spending time with Red Robin?" he teased.

Jason said something very fast, in a language Dick wasn't familiar with. He was still pretty sure he understood every insult though. Jason pushed past Dick, and started dismantling his rifle. "And I still say you're too soft," he finished.

Dick knew what Jason meant, but didn't want to have the old argument again, so merely took it as a joke at his expense. "Just to warn you, you're taking Bruce's side of the argument. Now come on, I'll get you a latte," he offered, slinging his arm around his brother's shoulder, and leading him away from his mistake.

They both pretended not hear the girly scream of a terrified teenage boy in the distance, nor see Deadshot speeding away in an almost-definitely-stolen car. Instead, they exchanged a covert low five, and headed off in search of caffeine and friends to irritate.


	14. Chapter 14

Author's note: Disclaimer - I own nothing.

Thank you for all the incredibly kind reviews, and I have some good news I hope, at least for Batmam. Although this was only ever meant to be a series of fun one shots, I have always had something bigger planned. I have already started writing a full story involving the characters, but which will have much more detail to it. It's going to be a crossover, (I think a few of you may have noticed that Shaun and Rebecca are borrowed from the assassin's creed series) and I will start posting it shortly after I finish this series of one shots, which only has one more chapter to go, I'm sure you're glad to hear. I hope to start posting chapters for the full story around mid October.

Spring had sprung, and Dick was loving it; after he'd got home from work he'd had time for a long nap before heading out for the night, and because it was Valentine's day, the only people out and about where young couples in love, and old couples adhering to tradition. Dick had even seen a couple of crooks he recognised out and about romancing their partners. It was both nauseating and disturbing.

If Dick was completely honest with himself, he may have been slightly bitter that Babs was out of the country with the Birds of Prey.

But he was happy that things were so calm around the city; if this were Gotham, he'd have been rushed off his feet with Super-villains trying to mark the occasion with spates of murder. Last year the Calendar Killer had murdered fourteen couples who had gotten engaged that day. The year before that Poison Ivy had used everyone she caught giving cut flowers to their partners for compost. The only disaster for Dick this year was that Barbara wouldn't get his card until the seventeenth.

Dick ran over the roofs, able to stick to his patrol route, without being dragged away by emergencies for once. He stopped one mugging, and was about to jump down to confront a man who was following a woman on her way home from work, until the man stopped her outside a park, and pulled out a ring. She said yes, and Dick moved on.

To be perfectly honest, Dick wasn't sure what to do with himself. This was the quietest night Blüdhaven had seen in months; Dick briefly entertained the idea of going over some cold case files back in his apartment, before he realised there was a much greater mystery he wanted to solve.

Dick headed South, taking his time to make sure everything was okay on the ground. He watched one woman thrust a bunch of roses back in the face of a man who was getting too handsy… with a fist wrapped round them. He stood ready to intervene as she turned on her heel and stalked away. She was fine though; she left her would be wooer on the floor licking his wounds, but Dick still took the time to drop down and remind the man that him buying a woman a present left her with no obligation to him.

Dick did appreciate people who stuck up for themselves. It made his job much more entertaining, if not any easier.

But with refreshingly few problems, Nightwing found himself at his destination. He stopped on the roof over the road from his target. He lay flat on the edge of the roof, and settled down to do some reconnaissance.

Only the two people he wanted to see were in the area. That should make his job much easier. The pair seemed to be at ease, casually leaning on the same counter, chatting. Unfortunately they both had their backs to Dick, making lip reading their conversation impossible.

Dick waited patiently for one on them to slip up. Be it body language, or some other seemingly insignificant action, there would be something that would give Nightwing the proof he needed. It was just a matter of waiting.

The pair reached a lull in their conversation, and she turned away to grab some bleach. The moment her back was turned, the man made his move, and grabbed something he'd stashed in a cupboard.

She turned around suddenly to face him, and her face was drawn into an exclamation of shock. She took a step back from him, and then… took the single red rose from his outstretched hands.

Dick smiled to himself; he loved being right.

He made to get up from his perch, then stopped in his tracks. She gave a mock curtsy, before tossing the flower carelessly on the counter. She made no move to put it in water, and seemed perfectly content to let his token of affection wither and die.

Okay, so he was in love with her, but she didn't feel the same way.

Nightwing was ready to be on his way, and leave them in peace. But just as he decided that, she swooped in to kiss him on the cheek, as she moved past him. Clearly his declaration of love hadn't actually been awkward and unwanted. Dick saw her say thanks, before she turned around to put something in the trash.

Dick was finally satisfied that they were happy together, just not comfortable with pda's. But the next minute, something she said set him off, and he spent the next four minutes gesturing wildly at her, and probably shouting, judging by the way his face was turning steadily purple. Nobody in a functioning relationship would talk to their partner like that. For the first time he began to get seriously worried. A temper like that was never a good thing.

Fifteen minutes of varying degrees of intimacies later, and the highly trained vigilante ran out of patience, and stormed across the road to confront the pair.

"Are you dating or not?!" Nightwing demanded.

Rebecca snorted, and Shaun let out a short derisive burst of laughter.

"You're the detective, work it out," Shaun said. "We don't discuss our private lives with customers," he chided. Nightwing was ready to snap back, when Rebecca reached under the counter, and pulled out another rose.

"We had a sneaking suspicion you'd show up," Rebecca said, passing it to Dick. He mimicked her curtsy from earlier, before tucking it behind his ear. He regretted it slightly, when he realised it hadn't been de-thorned.

"Now get out," Shaun said, making a shooing motion at Dick. "We're closing up early tonight."

Dick followed his orders without a fight, deciding that following them to see where they went, especially after he'd already revealed himself, would be more than a little awkward if they spotted him.

Dick decided it was best to go back to his flat; the cold case files were still waiting, or he could just get a decent night's sleep. He also had to put his gift in a vase.


	15. Chapter 15

Author's note: Disclaimer - I own nothing. Thank you to my betas, and to everyone who has reviewed, favourited, and followed this story, it really does mean the world. I know I said that this was the last chapter, but I promised a friend I'd do an epilogue, so that'll be along soon, but the first chapter of my new story will be up by November too. Apologies to superstar072299, I only managed to fit in half your prompt in this chapter, the rest is going to be in the epilogue.

They gathered at the coffee shop simply because Wally needed some food desperately, and the door was in pieces anyway. Dick got the feeling that nobody would miss a few pastries, considering everything.

Stupid alien invasions, always picked the worst times to try take over the world.

Dick was just intending to pop in, _borrow_ a few snacks, and then get back to the clean up effort. There wasn't too much left to do; Flash and Green Lantern had been roped into helping, and between the pair of them most of the rubble had been shifted. Flash had even managed to rebuild a few blocks of flats.

He was surprised when he saw the Cafe was as full as he'd ever seen it. Shaun and Rebecca were sat in an armchair, Liz was sat in between them, with a cut down the side of her face that made Dick wince a little. Karen was stood behind Rebecca, and her husband was kneeling in front of Liz, dabbing her face with what he assumed was a cotton bud soaked with alcohol, from the way she was flinching. The married couple were still in their usual lycra.

It was good to see some things never changed. Except the small pile of knives next to them. That was a new addition, and Dick had some mixed feelings about it.

"Hi guys,"Nightwing greeted them. He felt a little awkward now, like Alfred had caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. "What happened?"

"She got thrown into a wall," Shaun said. He was holding her hand, and gave it a little squeeze every time she winced.

"Any sign of concussion?" he asked, moving a little closer. It didn't look worryingly deep; he'd pulled several much worse looking people out of piles of rubble already.

Mark, finished what he was doing, and stood up. "Only a mild one, but she's not too bad. It might leave a scar though," he warned Liz, before he went to go stand by his wife.

There was a gust of wind, that Dick first thought might have just blown in through the door frame. But then it spoke.

"Didyoufindany- Oh hi," Wally said, when he noticed what was in front of him. "What's with all the knives?" he asked, pointing to a small pile.

"We got broken into," Rebecca answered. "There's a couple of disgusting tentacle pieces in the trash."

Nightwing made a note to collect any alien tissue from them on the way out; apparently Superman and Guy Gardner had already had a lot of trouble trying to stop LexCorp representatives in suits from hauling off the corpses. He didn't know what Luthor was planning to do with hundreds of rapidly decomposing alien bodies, but he doubted it was anything good.

Dick supposed they were incredibly lucky that the Earth's atmosphere actively destroyed the aliens. He just wished that they'd retreated when they found that out, instead of fighting to the last man. Or maybe woman. Or gender-less blob with freakishly strong tentacles.

Mark was staring at Wally; Nightwing realised he was vibrating his hand, something he only did when he wanted to get on with something.

"Hate to bother you at a time like this, but have you got any food? Kid Flash is about to faint."

Rebecca went to see what she could find, and Shaun grumbled about them being a cafe, not a soup kitchen. She tossed some packets of biscuits, handed a cupcake to Wally, and then collapsed back into her chair. Dick felt bad; she was limping.

"What's wrong?" he asked her, worried she'd been injured too.

"Old wound," Rebecca told him. "Aggravated it kicking one of those things in what I hope was it's face."

"Well at least it was for a good cause," Wally said, through a mouthful of pastry that he'd helped himself to from a glass jar with a large crack running up the side.

"You in here?"

Red Arrow's voice carried across the room; Dick turned to see him leaning on the door-frame.

"What are you doing here? You're supposed to be over in Star City," Dick asked his friend.

"You know as well as I do that Black Canary's got everything under control."

Nightwing knew it was true that the only thing Dinah was going to have a problem with was Roy and Ollie's bickering. "Well there's not much left to do here, but…"

Roy's mask moved up as his eyebrows raised. "I think you're missing something obvious actually," he told Nightwing.

"What?" Dick hoped he wasn't expecting him to go back to the collapsed block of flats round the corner. Civilians often forgot that the Bats didn't have superpowers, but he expected a little better of Roy. Then again…

"The massive chunk of flesh missing from your back," he said disbelievingly.

As soon as it was pointed out to him, Dick started to notice the pain properly. He hated when people did that, ignorance was bliss after all.

Dick sighed, and tried to crane his neck over his shoulder to get a proper look. He caught a glimpse and had to admit Roy was right. "I guess I'll go see if anyone's free to patch me up," he said, turning to leave.

"No need," Shaun called out to him, before he had chance to disappear. "We've got a first aid kit here, and Mark's adequate at giving medical care."

"No he's not, he won't let you drink the rubbing alcohol," Liz interrupted, her speech slurred slightly.

"I thought you didn't like us?" Red Arrow asked Shaun, thoroughly confused by the offer of help, when it wasn't strictly necessary.

"I don't like you, because you're all so American," Shaun announced grandly, as if he expected them all to be making notes on his speech. "However, America is still closer to England than Mars. War time spirit and all that."

"These guys weren't from Mars," Dick told Shaun with a smile, picturing the look on Jonn's face if he had heard Shaun's accusation. "And I think this is going to take a bit more than what you've got in your first aid kit."

"Well as your country still has no proper health care system in place, I took the liberty of stocking up on essentials." Shaun walked round the back of the counter as he ranted, and pulled out a box with a cross plastered across the side that Dick would have sworn was bigger than the cupboard it came from. Shaun staggered back over to the group with it, and set it down on the floor with a loud slam that made the dust from all the fallen buildings jump into the air again.

"Pull up a chair," Shaun instructed, returning to his own seat.

Dick was going to claim he was fine, but Mark was already making his way over, and he thought it best not to complain. Instead he swung a chair round, so he could sit on it backwards, and lean on the back for support, and gritted his teeth against the pain he expected to come. It didn't matter too much, as long as Mark could fix him up enough to get him home. Alfred would take care of everything after that.

Dick braced himself for the disinfectant, then tried to relax when it was time for the stitches. He had to admit it wasn't as bad as he had feared. He wondered if Mark had ever had proper medical training.

Red Arrow came over to hold Dick's ruined suit apart, so Mark could get at the wound. The material may have been compromised, but it was still pretty tough.

"You're good at that," Roy voiced the suspicion that Dick was too polite to.

"Once upon a time I was going to be a nurse," he said, without breaking pace.

"Why didn't you?" Dick asked. Mark certainly had the skills.

"I met my wife," he answered. Dick saw Karen pull a face, and assumed Mark must be doing the same behind him. "I don't regret it though," he said in a softer tone, that Dick assumed was for his wife's benefit.

Dick saw something twitch out of the corner of his eye. Then it shot through the door from the back room, before Dick had chance to warn anyone.

Shaun screamed loudly when the tentacle moved past him, while Liz shouted to kill it with fire. Rebecca was up in an instant, hitting the tentacle with the chair she had been sat on just a moment earlier, while Karen picked up a knife from the pile and threw it towards where the tentacle had appeared. Kid Flash sped away to actually deal with the problem.

Mark carried on dressing Nightwing's wound like none of it was of the slightest concern to him.

The tentacle stopped twitching whenever Rebecca hit it, and Wally returned looking vaguely disgusted. Rebecca placed her chair back down and started back in it; not even bothering to avoid the green goo her seat was now splattered with.

Mark clapped Dick's shoulder, and moved back to Karen's side. Dick rolled his shoulders cautiously, testing how much give the stitches had; Mark had done a good job.

With his shoulder patched up, and Kid Flash fed, there was really no excuse to carry on delaying. Dick stood, and looked at the huddle of customers and baristas.

"Thanks. We'll get on clean up now."

"You better," Shaun said, lacking his usual insulting energy. Rebecca still slapped him for it, albeit gently. Liz muttered quietly for them to stop fighting, and Karen shook her, worried she was drifting off to sleep.

"That'd be a great shot for a family photo," Dick said, looking wistfully at the group.

Wally suddenly had an arm around his shoulder, and Roy joined him a second later. "Come on, let's get you home," Roy said, as they escorted him out.

Home could wait for Dick though; checking everyone was okay came first. Not to mention checking everyone Damian had worked with was okay.


End file.
